


The Forgotten

by Hamliet



Series: Re Academy Universe [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Coming of Age, Depression, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Friendship, Healing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mystery, Psychological Trauma, Redemption, Romance, Slow Burn, Underage Substance Use, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:45:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 143,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamliet/pseuds/Hamliet
Summary: As far as the world is concerned, Re Academy is a school for rejects, a ticking time bomb, a place for the children everyone would rather forget. As RAs of Dorm Block 20, Amon, Akira, and Seidou are determined to keep their students in line, but new student Kaneki finds trouble brewing in every corner of campus.





	1. Dysfunctional

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This fic starts off a bit like a retelling—particularly next chapter when we get to Kaneki—but it will branch out as the story goes on. I plan to update MWF and—when I am able—Sundays (the story's completely written, actually—I'm just editing now). The main ships I plan on exploring are Touken, Ayahina, Mutsurie, Akiramon, Tsukikana, and Nishikimi, though there will be a few other ones explored to a lesser extent and/or in the background, like Seidou/Kurona, Saiko/Hsiao, Yomo/Uta, Arieto, Naki/Miza, Takeomi/Yoriko, and Ui/Hairu. I should also say that I'm playing with ages here, making some characters (like Ui and Furuta) who ought to be younger than others like Amon, into staff/teachers.
> 
> I want to add that, going forward, the story will deal with potentially triggering themes (violence, abuse, etc.) I'll put warnings before specific chapters, and there won't be any triggers that aren't already in Tokyo Ghoul or Tokyo Ghoul:re.

_Is there anyone here who can swear before God_

_That she has nothing to fear, nothing to hide?_

_"At the End of the Day," Les Misérables_

* * *

"Oh. You're here too?"

Amon cranes his neck up to see Seidou Takizawa scowling across the dorm's lounge at a girl with pale blond hair and a delicate face. A bird chirps outside the window, the sound more tinny than pleasant. Amon rubs the back of his neck. The last thing he needs is for the other two RAs in his dormitory to have some kind of toxic history.

"I'm not surprised they made you an RA," the girl says to Seidou. "You were second in our class in middle school, after all."

Judging from Seidou's pursed lips, the girl was likely first. But if she was trying to make a point, she doesn't dwell on it. Instead, she turns to Amon and holds out her hand. "Akira."

"Amon," he introduces himself. "I have the fourth floor."

"That must mean you have the third, right, Seidou?" asks Akira, pulling back a red cushioned chair and dropping into it. "Because I have the second."

Seidou scowls and straightens in his chair. The first floor of the dorm is comprised of the dorm parent's apartment and this lounge, which is decorated to resemble a home. Overly stuffed leather couches and cushioned chairs surround a cherry wood table and a fluffy carpet. Windows line the walls and bright purple curtains sway in the breeze. It just looks strange to Amon, and he suspects it will to most of their charges. A welcoming home is something most won't understand. "When will the dorm parent get here?"

"Should be any minute now," Amon answers. "I don't—think I've seen you here before, Akira."

"I went to a different school last year." Akira crosses her legs. Her blouse and skirt are crisp, as if she's interviewing instead of waiting to meet her dorm parent at a boarding school known for taking in troubled kids and orphans. He falls into the latter category. Seidou, he has no idea about.

Amon rubs his chin. _So are you a delinquent, Akira? But no, they wouldn't make you an RA right away if you had that kind of history—_

"My dad works here," Akira adds. "He thought I'd be a good influence."

 _Oh_.

"Why did you want to be an RA?" she inquires.

"It looks good on college applications," Seidou says, leaning forward. "And it gives us a chance to contribute to the school."

"I'll echo that," Amon agrees, and Seidou actually almost smiles. "The head of security advised me to, last year. He said I'd be good at it." _You lack the proper instincts sometimes, but you've got the passion,_ Kureo Mado told him last year after Amon found two kids trying to run away and turned them in. "You'll meet him."

Akira arches an eyebrow. "I see."

Seidou snorts.

"What?"

"Her name's Akira _Mado_ ," Seidou says, jerking his thumb towards her.

 _Your dad… oh my God_. Amon's face flushes. "Oh. You're—he's your—" Amon remembers Mado, his mentor, telling him his daughter would be joining as an RA. _You could have mentioned it would be in the same dorm!_

"Yes," says Akira, glancing up at the large digital clock on the wall, black with red numbers. The dorm parent's already close to ten minutes late. Amon hopes this doesn't become a habit. "He's spoken about you. Highly."

Amon's heart lifts. "Your dad's—"

The door swings open, and a man with a receding hairline and a huge smile strides in, four binders in his arms. "Welcome!"

All three of them leap to their feet.

"Koutarou Amon?" the man asks. "And you must be Seidou Takizawa—and I already know you, Akira."

The past year, Amon lived across campus, in Dorm Block 6 in west campus. He knew Seidou from classes, but he didn't know the dorm parents on south campus, where Dorm Block 20 is.

"I'm Yukinori Shinohara," says the man in front of them, holding out his hand. Amon shakes it, followed by Seidou and Akira. "I apologize for being late; Dean Arima had a few special circumstances to discuss. Please, take your seats." He gestures, and Amon complies. Shinohara drops down onto one of the overstuffed armchairs, nudging a magenta throw pillow out of the way. "I thought we'd start by going over the rules, curfew, and the procedures for filing reports on one of your students."

"What sort of incidents require reports?" questions Akira.

"In theory, everything. You'll have to fill out a report form biweekly on each student. But it's mostly just for record keeping. You should be able to handle minor disputes between students, romantic entanglements, etc. among yourselves—and you're free to impose stricter curfews as punishment—but if you come across something like substance abuse or a dispute that escalates into serious violence, you should come to me. And the three of you should be able to consult among yourselves as well—the three of you are a team, and you'll have to work together." Shinohara smiles at them.

Amon's eyes take in Seidou, who furiously scribbles notes, and Akira, who frowns and looks at both Seidou and Amon as if she's not quite sure how well these two will be able to do. Heat prickles on the back of his neck. She seems so sincere, but she's new to this school, and as wonderful as Kureo Mado is, what if he's underestimated how draining this could be for her?

 _I'll help her,_ Amon decides. _And Seidou. We're a team, and I've been at this school the longest._

Akira peppers Shinohara with questions about the specific curfew hours, the procedures for emergencies, and how to make sure their students are actually seeing Furuta, the counselor.

"Right," Shinohara says when they finally run out of questions. "I look forward to working with each of you this year." He slides a binder to Amon, one to Seidou, and one to Akira. "Akira, you're still fine with sharing your room? It's protocol for RAs to have their own room, but due to overcrowding—"

"It's fine," Akira assures him, flipping her binder open.

"Great." Shinohara rises. "They'll start arriving within the next two hours. In the meantime, I have some phone calls to make. I'll see you at the dorm meeting tonight, right in this room." And he disappears into the adjacent apartment.

"You have to have a roommate, Akira?" Seidou sounds incredulous.

"Kimi Nishino," Akira reads from her binder. "New orphan. As in, just the past month. No record of problems at her previous school." She purses her lips. "Poor girl."

"Who else do you have?" Amon inquires, curious as to whether he'll recognize any of the names.

"In the double room, two juniors: Saiko Yonebayashi and Kurona Yasuhisa. In the triple, two seniors: Yoriko Kosaka, Touka Kirishima, and a junior, Hinami Fueguchi."

"I know Kurona," Amon says. "She's—sweet." _What happened to her sister?_ he wonders. He's never seen Kurona without her twin.

"Good to know."

"Looks like I have your Touka Kirishima's junior brother," Seidou says. "Ayato. Rooming in the double with Juuzou Suzuya. And it's weird, Juuzou's records are sealed." He scowls. "How am I supposed to work with him if I can't see his records?"

"I've never heard of that happening," Amon admits. _Weird_.

" _Two_ records are sealed," Seidou says. "In the triple, I've got Tooru Mutsuki, Kuki Urie, and Ginshi Shirazu, and Mutsuki's records are sealed too. Do you have any sealed—"

Amon scans his list. "No. I've got all their records. And I don't know them—they must be new."

"Who do you have?" asks Akira. "Anyone you know?"

He shakes his head. "Double room's got Shuu Tsukiyama and Kanae von Rosewald, and there's a note that they asked to room together. Triple's got Hideyoshi Nagachika, Nishiki Nishio, and Ken Kaneki. They're all new except Nishiki, but I wouldn't say I know him. Just that I remember his face." Truancy and obsessive behavior are cited for Tsukiyama and von Rosewald alike. _Great_. Kaneki and Nagachika's records seem far sadder. _An orphan and—a volunteer?_ Although apparently Kaneki has an aunt who decided she didn't want him. _Poor kid._

"Why do I get both the sealed records?" complains Seidou. "What if they're both, like, murderers?"

"You should know that's not unheard of at this school, and if you couldn't handle it, you shouldn't have applied to be an RA," Akira informs him.

"Hey!" Seidou leaps to his feet, his face growing red. "I know perfectly well what I'm getting into."

Amon almost laughs. Akira raises her eyebrows. "I would say you don't, and that's precisely why you're mad."

"Whatever." Seidou shakes his head. "I'll go put the nametags on their doors."

Amon heads up the stairs to do likewise. The stairs give way into a small open area with four doors—one to a bathroom, one to his small rectangular room with a bookshelf, a bureau, and a bed crammed inside, and two to his charges' rooms.

"Amon," a voice says behind him as he attaches Kaneki's nametag to the door. He jumps.

"Relax," says Kureo Mado, leaning against the door. "Don't get spooked yet. If they see you flinch, they'll run all over you."

He nods. "I met your daughter."

"Akira? She's a great kid. She'll do well." Mado's voice softens in a way Amon's never heard before.

"I'm sure," Amon agrees, attaching Nishio's nametag. "I'll watch out for her."

Mado's lips curve into a smile. "I'm sure you will. You are the oldest RA here, Amon, and the most experienced. I expect you to be the one they turn to for advice."

He nods again. _I can do it. I will do it. I'm responsible._

_I'm not what Donato tried to make me into._

Mado claps his shoulder, and Amon smiles.

He doesn't remember his parents, but where he used to have nightmares of Donato whenever someone said _your_ _father_ , he now sees Mado.

* * *

"Hello! You must be—um—Tooru Mutsuki!"

Mutsuki nods, clutching his bag to his chest. _How much do you know? How much did they tell you?_ he wonders as he peers at the kid who can't be more than a year older than him. _Right, they did say there would be senior RAs._

"We're on the third floor," chatters the RA. "I'm Seidou Takizawa. First floor's for the lounge and dorm parent's apartment, second is for girls, and third and fourth are for us guys."

Mutsuki manages a smile, pushing his green hair back as they climb the narrow staircase of Dorm Block 20. "If you need anything at all," Seidou adds. "Please contact me. We're here to help you."

Mutsuki has his doubts. Seidou pushes the door open, and Mutsuki's eyes immediately find his name printed in white on a black name tag. Two other names rest on the door.

"Your roommates are already here," Seidou adds. "We'll have a dorm meeting in an hour, back down in the lounge."

"Okay," says Mutsuki.

"Is that all you brought with you?" Seidou asks, frowning.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Cool," says Seidou, as if he doesn't know what else to say. He raps on the door, and it opens.

A boy with purple hair and a scowl looks out. "Yeah?"

"Urie," greets Seidou, his voice strained with trying-too-hard cheerfulness. "This is your other roommate. Tooru Mutsuki."

"Oh." Urie steps back, taking in Tooru. "Hi."

"Hi," Mutsuki echoes.

"Hello!" shouts another boy, unkempt blond hair falling in front of his eyes as he peers down from the top bunk. "I'm Shirazu."

"Mutsuki," he repeats, entering the room. Books and clothes are already scattered over the bottom bunk. Mutsuki spots another bed across the room, a bureau shoved against the foot of it. _That one must be mine._ It looks like the other two have to share one giant bureau. _Well, this worked out well_. He immediately crouches down to start unpacking.

"See you in an hour!" calls Seidou.

"You new too?" asks Shirazu, tossing a baseball up at the ceiling and catching it.

"Yeah," Mutsuki says, his fingers closing in around a box of tampons wrapped in a sweater. The sweater rolls off, and he bites back a curse as he rewraps it, still in the bag. He does not want his roommates seeing that, developing questions Mutsuki doesn't want them thinking, much less Mutsuki have to answer.

"What are we even supposed to do tomorrow?" asks Shirazu.

"Orientation," grouses Urie, dropping onto his bed and folding his shirts.

"I heard there's a snack bar called Anteiku open every night," Shirazu says.

"Curfew's at nine," says Urie. "Not possible tonight."

"Until nine, but I've also heard that if you get there before ten, they'll still serve you and won't turn you in." Shirazu grins down at them.

"How did you hear?" asks Mutsuki, finally stuffing the concealed tampons into a drawer.

"I know one of the girls who's also in this dorm. Saiko. She's been going here since last year. You'll all like her. She's funny." Shirazu sits up now, crouching over to avoid whacking his head on the ceiling. "We should check it out."

"We have that dorm meeting tonight," Urie points out again.

"Tomorrow, then. We can celebrate classes starting with late night chocolate."

Mutsuki's heart lifts. _You're so nice_. "I'd like to go."

Shirazu grins. "How about you, Urie?"

"Sure," he agrees, but without any reaction on his face. "But only if we go before curfew. I'm going to get a scholarship. I'm not risking getting in trouble."

"Fair enough," Shirazu agrees.

An uneven laugh erupts through their floor. Mutsuki jumps to his feet, anxiety clamping. "What—"

"What are you doing?" shrieks the voice of their RA.

Urie creeps towards the door. Shirazu hits the floor with a thump and scrambles.

 _I guess I follow?_ Mutsuki hangs back, peeking out the door from behind his roommates' shoulders.

A boy— _is he a boy?—_ Mutsuki wonders—with wild white hair and wearing clothes that seem way too big for him, almost like a costume, stands in the doorway of one of the other rooms, a spool of red thread in one hand and a needle in the other. At first Mutsuki thinks he's got tattoos, but then he realizes red stitches wrap around his right arm and hand, and a few red _x_ s stand out under his lips and one eye.

"It's just some decoration," says the boy, holding up his hand as if to admire it. A half-finished flower sits on one forearm. He scowls. "I don't like this, though." He reaches to tear it out.

Shirazu clamps his hand over his mouth as if he's going to vomit.

"Would you stop doing that?" Seidou tries to ask, fists clenched and chest heaving as if he's trying to force himself to stay calm.

"Why should I?" returns the boy.

Another kid, with long purple hair and dressed in a black sweatshirt like he's trying to be an emo stereotype, emerges from the bathroom and stops in his tracks.

"If you don't, I'll write a report!"

The boy with the stitches rolls his eyes and drops his hand. "Boy, you are annoying."

"I'm your RA," snaps Seidou, folding his arms.

The boy's eyes start to glow. He takes a step towards Seidou, and Mutsuki shrinks back behind Urie and Shirazu. The boy's red and ghostly white fingers wave around their RA's face like he's trying to cast a spell. "Why don't I sew up that mouth that keeps opening so much, Seidou?"

Seidou stumbles back just as the door to their suite flies open. A tall, broad-shouldered man shakes his head at the scene. "What's going on here, Seidou, Juuzou?"

"Shinohara!" gasps Juuzou. But he doesn't look irritated with the man Mutsuki assumes is the dorm parent. "Seidou's being annoying."

"He's sewing his own skin!" splutters Seidou.

Mutsuki's heart races.

"You're _all_ late to the meeting," points out Shinohara. "Come downstairs, please."

Seidou's face turns as red as the stitches on Juuzou's skin. Mutsuki expects Juuzou to protest, but instead he scrambles back into his room to stuff his feet into red slippers and clatters down the stairs.

"What kind of a freak is he?" Mutsuki hears Seidou hissing to Shinohara.

"Don't call him that," reproaches Shinohara. "If you start categorizing, Seidou, you won't be able to help any of your charges."

 _No categorizing?_ Mutsuki doesn't understand. Aren't they all here because they've been categorized as orphans or disturbed or both? Aren't they all stitched with a red unwanted label?

"But his records—"

"You don't need to know his records to get to know him," Shinohara returns. Mutsuki's heart thumps. He knows his records are sealed, too. But Shinohara has to know.

_If he's saying that about Juuzou, does that mean he didn't tell Seidou about me either?_

In the lounge, Urie and Shirazu take the two beanbag chairs. Mutsuki hesitates. Should he sit on the floor by them? Faces, all the faces—six girls, so many boys—stare at Shinohara, waiting, and then at Mutsuki, because he doesn't know where to sit, what to do—

"Hey," says a voice belonging to a sweet-faced boy sitting next to a redheaded guy on a couch. He nudges his friend, and they shift over. "Do you want to sit here?"

Mutsuki nods, dropping down.

"I'm Ken Kaneki," introduces the boy.

"Tooru Mutsuki," he mumbles.

"Hello," calls Shinohara, dropping into a wooden chair with red cushions. "I suggest we all start by going around and introducing ourselves. I'm Shinohara, and I'll be your dorm parent for the year—maybe two years, for those of you who are juniors. We're all going to be like a family here."

"A dysfunctional one," mumbles Urie from the beanbag chair. Shirazu covers his mouth as if trying not to laugh.

 _Family_.

Mutsuki can't tell if this proclamation excites or terrifies him.


	2. Fragile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and for your comments/kudoses--I really appreciate them! This chapter veers a little bit more into the retelling territory than most chapters will, but I do love writing Kaneki's point of view. Also, a warning for allusions to substance misuse in this chapter.

"You know, Kaneki, this place isn't so bad," Hide announces the next day at lunch. They're sprawled on the grass in front of the cafeteria.

Kaneki takes a bite of a hamburger and nods. A girl with purple hair and a small pair of glasses glides in front of them. Kaneki's heart picks up pace.

"Are you going to check out the library after our afternoon session?" Hide asks, biting into a fry.

Kaneki nods, his gaze still on the girl. Her dress floats around her. It matches the color of her hair.

"I was thinking I'd even come with you," Hide says as the girl takes a seat on a bench. "Earth to Kaneki."

"Huh?" He blinks.

Hide waves his hand in front of Kaneki's face. "Give it up," he advises. "You have no chance with her."

Kaneki's face burns, and not from the sun. "I wasn't—I mean—"

"She's out of—"

"She's reading my favorite author," Kaneki whispers, staring at the book in the girl's hand. "Sen Takatsuki."

"Wait, what? Are you serious?" Hide's head swivels around. "Holy shit. Well, maybe if you show her your book collection, she'll be impressed."

"Thanks for letting me use your bookshelf in the room," Kaneki says, squinting against the sun.

"No problem, dude." Hide smirks. "You're my best friend."

Their other roommate, Nishiki, rolled his eyes when he saw how many books Kaneki brought. Kaneki folds his legs against his chest as he remembers his aunt's scorn. _"You're seriously bringing all those? Well, at least they'll be out of my house."_

"You know," says Hide. "You might have a better chance with _her_. Isn't she in our dorm?"

Kaneki lifts his gaze to see a girl with short indigo hair, a skirt, and Doc Martens sitting down across from them on the grassy slope. Her blond friend cajoles her to try some of her fries. _Touka, right?_ "Didn't she say she hated reading though?" Shinohara had asked them to share their favorite and least favorite subject. She named literature as her least favorite.

"Ah, shit, you're right."

Kaneki spots Nishiki heading across the green, towards the vending machines. "Should we ask him to join us?"

Hide shrugs. "Maybe. I get a weird vibe from him though."

"You forget there's a reason many of them are here at this school," Kaneki points out. "Except you. And maybe that girl RA. Akira."

"I'm here because of you," Hide returns. "I don't want to go to school without my best friend."

Kaneki still can't believe the lengths Hide went through for him. Re Academy is technically open to anyone, but to his knowledge, no one ever voluntarily enrolls. Kids are always sent here. Kids with no other options and a side of severe emotional problems.

Nishiki punches in the code for a snack from the machine. Another girl from their dorm, who seemed awfully sweet last night, approaches.

"Ooh, I can feel it already," Hide complains. "You've got _two_ options, Nishiki's gonna go for that girl, and it's going to be me alone forever while the two of you get girlfriends. Goddammit."

"Hide!" Kaneki drops what's left of his burger. "I don't have two—"

"Touka, and Ms. I-Like-The-Same-Books," Hide says, jerking his thumb towards the girl with purple hair.

"Keep your voice down!" squeaks Kaneki. "And don't point!"

Oh no.

Oh _shit_.

Because the girl with purple hair definitely noticed. She rises, brushing her hair away from her face. "Hide!" _Hide me._ Kaneki wishes he could swallow a vanishing potion. _Why can't fantasy books be real?_

"Hello, says the girl, peering down at him as she stands over them. The wind tosses her hair. Her voice is soft, lilting. "Did you want to talk?"

 _No. Yes._ "Um—" Kaneki stammers.

"He noticed the book you were reading," Hide chimes in. "Sen Takatsuki, right? That's his favorite writer. And by favorite, I mean, he like, collects her books. Among other books. All the books."

Kaneki's bones all feel as if they've fused together. He can't pry his jaw open.

"Really?" asks the girl with a laugh. She plops down on the grass next to him. "I'm Rize Kamishiro."

 _Speak, idiot!_ "K-Ken Kaneki."

"Nice to meet you!" Rize trills. "It's so rare to find someone who likes books. I've been here at this school for the past three years, and mostly everyone views reading as a chore."

"You mean because they have lives?" Hide quips.

Rize rolls her eyes.

"Literature's my favorite subject," Kaneki whispers.

"Mine, too." She smiles at him.

"O _kay_." Hide jumps up. "Getting a soda from the vending machine. Kaneki, Rize, you want anything?"

Kaneki shakes his head. Rize doesn't even respond. She just smiles at him. _At_ me.

"Enjoy discussing your horror books, because the world isn't horrific enough," Hide adds as he saunters away. And for once, Kaneki doesn't want to reach out and drag him back.

"How'd you start reading them?" asks Rize.

"My mother taught me to read. After my dad died, I—read everything I could. Her books really resonate, and—" _What if I'm making no sense? How do I phrase this so I don't seem desperate or like a freak or—_

" _Exactly_ ," Rize gushes. "The world's pretty messed up, and she reflects that darkness so well in her books, even if they're fantasy in some ways, so it's like—"

"You're welcome to borrow any of the ones you haven't read," Kaneki offers. _Oh no—what if I sound condescending? She's probably better read than me!_ He remembers his aunt, furious whenever he excelled on an exam. _"Are you trying to show my son up?"_

But Rize laughs. "I might take you up on that. Have you seen the library here yet?"

He shakes his head. "I was—thinking of checking it out tonight."

"You should," Rize advises. "It's got loads and loads of books—three stories of them. It looks like something out of medieval Europe."

"Would you want to show me?" Kaneki blurts out. _What have I done?_

But she beams. "Sure! After dinner?"

The bell screeches. _Time for more orientation._

Kaneki nods.

"So you're going with her? Not me?" Hide hisses, gulping his Coke as they head back to the auditorium.

"You're welcome to—"

"Nah, I see how it is."

Shame curdles in Kaneki's chest. "Hide, I'm—"

"No, you idiot!" Hide ruffles Kaneki's hair. "Don't be sorry! Have fun. Your first date in, oh, I don't know, _ever?"_ He grins and links his arm with Kaneki's.

A smile spreads of Kaneki's face. When he found out they were sending him to Re Academy a few months ago, he cried. He thought it was the end.

_What if it's just the beginning?_

* * *

"So," Rize asks as they leave the library twenty minutes before curfew. "What do you think?"

Kaneki shakes his head, his arms loaded with books. "I never pictured this school having such a nice library." The ceilings were vaulted, and the windows were stained glass. He wonders if at least part of the building is constructed from an old church. Ladders were perched against shelves that stretched more than three times Kaneki's height on every floor, and Rize had dozens of recommendations.

"I know, right?" Rize giggles.

"Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow?" Kaneki wonders.

"I don't skip meals," Rize informs him, adjusting her dress. Which is low-cut. Very low-cut. Kaneki gulps and averts his gaze, and she definitely notices. A smirk spreads across her face.

"G-good. I'll see you then?"

Rize hesitates. "Would you mind walking me back to my dorm? I live on east campus, and sometimes the walk between north and east—because we have to go down that huge hill and—oh, you probably don't know because this is your first year here, but they're reconstructing part of east campus, and any kids who are still involved in, you know, drugs and such, will gather there, and I've been harassed there before."

Kaneki's eyes widen. "Harassed?"

Rize nods, clasping her wrist with her other hand.

"Of course I'll walk you," Kaneki says quickly. They have time, don't they? And if he's a few minutes late—well, Amon seemed like an understanding-enough RA. Surely he won't be mad. It'd be wrong for Kaneki to leave Rize alone.

"Especially the night before classes start," Rize adds as she leads them down a pathway made of cobblestones. "Kids'll be wanting to celebrate their last moments of freedom."

"Oh."

"My guess is you've never been involved in that sort of crowd."

Kaneki shakes his head.

"I have been," Rize admits. "But not—I like school more than that kind of life. I don't want that kind of life."

Kaneki nods.

"Be careful," Rize warns him, her hand reaching out to squeeze his shoulder as their path heads through a forested area. Light twinkle from one of the north campus dorms. "You need to avoid those crowds here, or they could eat you alive. You're so—" She sucks in her breath. " _Nice_."

They head down a flight of stairs carved into the hillside. East campus is supposedly the most cramped part of campus, with the dorms taller and larger than the other buildings. The snack bar's the only reason people ever visit unless you live there, according to Nishiki.

"So are you," Kaneki manages. _Why am I so bad at this?_

But he means it. Rize's kind, and she likes books, and she's beautiful.

Rize pauses under what looks like the concrete skeleton of a building. Sawdust and dead twigs litters the ground around it. Kaneki hears scurrying. _Must be a rat._

"No one's ever said that to me before," Rize says, blinking.

"Really?"

Rize reaches for his shoulders. Her face comes closer and closer. Kaneki's heart pounds. S _he can't be about to—I don't know how to—is it like the movies, or is it like—_

Something cold presses into his neck.

"Now," says Rize, a smile curving on lips that haven't met his. "Empty your pockets."

"Huh?" _Is this a—_ knife?

His skin pricks.

_It's definitely a knife._

"What are you thinking?" Kaneki blabbers. "You can't—they'll find—"

"A nice kid like you's the perfect type of kid to have a bank card," Rize purrs. "Or cash. You're an orphan, right? Not one of us screw-ups."

"You can't—"

"You really think you aren't going to school with murderers?" Rize whistles. "One text from me and I'll have friends come who won't think twice about breaking into your dorm room and making you sorry. And your friend."

"I don't have anything, though!" Kaneki ekes out.

"I don't believe you."

"But I don't!" He fumbles to toss the books to the ground and turns his pockets inside out. The knife pulls back from his throat. "See?" He left his bank card in his room.

Shock mars Rize's expression. "You can't be—but you're exactly the type—" She curses. Her hands shake. "I need it!"

"I don't have—"

"I need—"

"Rize, do you need help?" Kaneki tries. _Are you on drugs?_

She glares at him. "You—"

Something cracks above them. Kaneki barely has time to look up before he sees something huge and dark plummeting towards them. "Rize!"

Something slams into his skull. His shoulder feels as if it's been torn from his socket. His jaw clacks against the ground. His teeth crunch his tongue. Blood fills his mouth. He gags, and it's as if someone's hands close around his throat, slowly squeezing his breath away.

The moonlight fades.

All he sees is black, and all he smells is blood.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" shrieks Shirazu as a crash echoes through the air.

Fear stabs Mutsuki's gut. He doubles over, the sweet aftertaste of the ice cream suddenly feeling like bitter slime in his mouth.

Urie casts him a strange look. "We're by a construction site. Something probably just fell."

"Should we get Yoshimura?" asks Shirazu, referring to the snack bar worker. Yoshimura gave Mutsuki a chocolate for free. Mutsuki keeps it in his pocket for later.

" _It's not a big deal,"_ Urie states, fists tightening. "Let's _go_. Before we're late getting back."

"East campus is the most dangerous," Saiko, a heavyset girl with thick blue pigtails, says as a cloud covers the full moon. "Because half of it's abandoned for 'renovations,' and half of it's—"

"Well then," Urie states, tapping his foot. "What the hell are we doing just standing around? If there _is_ a problem, and there's probably not, we don't want to get blamed, now do we?"

"No," Mutsuki whispers, shoulder slumping. He wonders why Urie even accompanied them. Urie doesn't seem to like any of them very much.

"Fine then," Shirazu agrees, shivering as a breeze blows through. "We should just—get going."

Tonight, Mutsuki needs to shower. He'll have to wait until everyone else is asleep, so that there's no risk of someone else coming in. Even if the stalls are curtained off, he's petrified.

"Well, there's your cause," Saiko announces, pointing. "Some beams fell down."

"Good grief," Urie scoffs. "They should have tethered those more properly. Someone could've—"

"There's a leg!" shouts Shirazu.

"Shirazu, don't—" Saiko starts.

"No, really!" Shirazu flies off the path and rushes towards the building. "There are two people here!"

"You've gotta be—" Urie starts. Mutsuki feels rooted to the concrete. _They can't—_

"Someone go get help!" snarls Urie.

No one moves.

"I need someone to help stop bleeding!" howls Shirazu. "Mutsuki—you have a belt—and a jacket—"

"Fine, I'll do it," Urie huffs, taking off back towards Anteiku. Saiko flies after him.

" _Mutsuki, now!"_

Mutsuki's leg finally lifts, and he darts over to Shirazu. One girl appears pinned under the beams. A boy lies next to her, free from the beam but with his shoulder dislocated.

An image flashes in front of Mutsuki, something familiar, but then it's gone like a dream.

" _Jacket_ ," Shirazu orders, holding out his hand as he crouches by the girl. "Dammit, she's really hurt—I've got a pulse, though—"

Mutsuki fumbles to pull off his jacket. His binder better be good enough.

He drops down next to the boy, whose chest rises and falls. Blood runs down his face from a gash on his temple.

_I know you._

"Shirazu," Mutsuki breathes. "I know—we know—this guy. It's Ken Kaneki. From our dorm."

Shirazu's jaw drops. "Shit!" He hesitates. "I don't think I can shift the beams; she might bleed out."

Blood stains the concrete around them. Mutsuki's hands tremble as he presses against Kaneki's temple wound. "You'll be okay," he reassures.

The blood sticks to his palms, and another image— _blood_ —a sound— _screams_ —fly into Mutsuki's mind, but they're gone before he can grasp them.

_I'm scared._

_Why does this seem so familiar?_

"Hey!" bellows a voice. Mutsuki looks up to see flashlights—security. And Yoshimura. Urie and Saiko. And a stretcher—two.

"Help's here," he assures Kaneki.

 _Is it?_ he wonders as he gets to his feet, blood dripping from his palms.


	3. Failures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Enjoy the chapter, in which Amon starts to sniff out trouble and Kaneki tries to recover... but life has other plans.

"I can't believe this," Amon whispers, his head in his hands. They sit in Shinohara's apartment, all three RAs and Shinohara.

Mado sits in front of him, covered in blood from the rescue operation. "It did look as if the boy was going to be all right. Maybe a concussion and a dislocated shoulder."

"And the girl?" Akira inquires, her face pale.

Mado shakes his head. "We don't know."

 _That's a quite-possibly-not_. Amon grips his knees, lifting his head up. _School hasn't even started yet!_

"You should probably tell Kaneki's roommates," says Mado, moving towards the door.

"How did the beams even fall?" Amon questions. "If they weren't tied properly, that's a pretty big—and dangerous—mistake to have made."

"I plan on investigating that right now," says Mado before he slips out.

"Well," says Akira, crossing her arms. "Good luck."

Amon curses as he drags himself up the stairs to the fourth floor. Shinohara's heading to the hospital, as per protocol, as Kaneki's legal guardian. Amon pulls out his phone to see a text from Seidou.

_Let me know if I can do anything._

_Thanks,_ Amon types back. He didn't expect this kind of sympathy from Seidou, but he appreciates it.

_I'm waiting for Urie, Mutsuki, and Shirazu to get back. They've gotta be upset._

Amon cringes. That's got to be _traumatizing_. And depending on what these kids already have been through—well, his and Seidou's jobs this year just got a whole lot harder.

_How did those beams fall? Just as two people were under them?_

He knocks on Hide and Nishiki's door. Music blasts from Shuu and Kanae's room, but Amon's too tired to deal with it just now.

Hide bursts into tears when he hears what happened to his friend, while Nishiki just sits there with a blank expression. Amon remembers the story he heard: orphaned, sister shot by the police in a case of mistaken identity. In front of Nishiki.

"My God, that's terrible!" exclaims Shuu when Amon goes into their room.

"Tragic," comments Kanae, running his hands through his purple hair. Amon wonders if they're involved with each other, and maybe that's why they wanted to be roommates. He hopes not.

"Keep the music down," Amon orders when Shuu reaches for his iPhone. "Quiet hours."

Shuu beams at him. "Of course."

 _I do not trust him._ Amon's eyes spy several cans lined up on Shuu's neatly arranged bookshelves. "What's that?"

"Jars of caviar," Shuu proclaims. "For special occasions."

"You're keeping jars of caviar in your room?"

"It's delicious," Kanae cuts in, crossing his arms over his chest.

 _It's fish eggs_. Amon's nose wrinkles. "How did you—"

"My father runs Tsukiyama Industries," Shuu says, hand flicking through the air. "The cafeteria and snack bar here aren't bad, but they won't satisfy me. It's all a bit boring."

 _I cannot deal with you right now_. Amon shakes his head. "Enjoy." He strides out of the room.

He barely sleeps that night and sends a text to Mado at midnight. _Was it an accident?_

 _Good instincts,_ Mado responds the next morning, when Amon's had only about three hours of sleep. _Inconclusive._

_So, no._

His classes fly by in a breeze. Their biology teacher, Yomo, gives them the most homework. Seidou invites him and Akira to eat lunch with him, although he still doesn't seem any friendlier to Akira.

"My dad texted me," Akira tells him. "Kaneki's going to be okay. He's coming back tonight. Shinohara will probably email you."

"And the girl?"

"It was Rize Kamishiro. She's in the hospital, but it's looking good. She'll have a longer stay, of course," Akira says, spooning some yogurt into her mouth.

Amon lets out a sigh of relief. He'll have to tell Hide as soon as possible.

By the time he gets back to the dorm, he finds Shinohara waiting for him in the lounge. "He's up in his room." He gives Amon a bag containing Kaneki's pain medication and instructions.

 _Thank God._ Amon's cross thumps against his chest as he hurries up the stairs, knocking on the door.

"Come in," calls a groggy voice.

Amon presses the door open to find Hide already there, sitting next to Kaneki. Gray and purple bruises swell on the side of Kaneki's bandaged face, and his arm's in a sling.

"Itori let me out of drama early," Hide explains. "I showed Shinohara my pass."

"I believe you," Amon cuts in quickly, giving Hide a smile. "How're you feeling, Ken?"

Kaneki lifts his uninjured shoulder. "My head's sore."

"Shinohara gave me your pain meds," Amon says. "You're supposed to take them every eight hours, as you need them."

"Okay," Kaneki says. "I just go and—ask you?"

He nods.

"What about the middle of the night?" Hide demands. "Doesn't it make more sense for Kaneki to have them himself? He's not a—"

"I know he's not," Amon cuts in. "But rules are rules."

"It's fine, Hide," Kaneki interrupts. A book sits next to him.

"Do you remember what happened?" Amon questions, taking a seat at the foot of Kaneki's bed.

He shakes his head. "I—well, I was walking—that girl back to her dorm because she said she was worried about making it back safely, and the beams came down."

"Just like that?" Amon questions.

Kaneki nods, but his eyes skitter away from Amon.

 _What are you hiding?_ "Were you just walking by, or did you pause under the building?"

"We were—paused."

"Wait, really?" Hide demands. "So were you, like, kissing?"

Kaneki's face turns bright red and he frantically shakes his head. " _No_."

"Well," says Amon. "If you remember anything else, let me know."

Hide frowns. "You mean—it might not have been an accident?"

"No," Amon says quickly. "I mean, we don't know."

Kaneki's eyes start to drift shut. He's still got to be drugged out of his mind.

A cacophony of voices echo outside the door. For a moment Amon thinks it's Kanae and Shuu, but no, it's the quartet that found Kaneki yesterday.

"Come in," calls Hide, sounding amused. "Kaneki, you have a fan club."

Kaneki's jaw drops as the four juniors tumble inside. A boy with purple hair—Urie—hangs back.

"Oh my God, we're so glad you're okay!" gushes Saiko, the girl. "We were worried that—"

"Saiko, shouldn't we reintroduce ourselves?" Shirazu interrupts. Amon bites back a smile. "I'm Ginshi Shirazu. Third floor."

"Tooru Mutsuki," says a quiet boy.

"Saiko Yonebayashi."

"Kuki Urie." He inches towards the door. "And I'm glad to see that you're doing well, Kaneki, but I've got to work on some homework. I can't waste time here."

 _That's rude,_ Amon thinks, but Kaneki smiles. "Thank you. All of you. For helping."

"You scared us," jokes Saiko.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," Shirazu says.

"Mado told me you were the one who stopped Rize's bleeding," Amon says to Shirazu. "Good job."

Shirazu's eyes almost pop out of his head. He straightens. "Oh—um, yeah. Urie went and got help. And Mutsuki gave me his jacket to help, and he's the one who helped you, Kaneki."

"Really?" Hide asks with a grin.

Mutsuki's face flushes. "There wasn't much I could do—I—I just tried to say it'd all be okay." He grips his baggy pants, twisting the fabric. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thank you," Kaneki says, looking as if all the attention makes him want to melt.

 _Mutsuki is one of the ones whose records were sealed,_ Amon remembers. Seidou quite clearly has an answer for why Juuzou's were sealed in his bizarre behavior, but Mutsuki? He just seems like a shy, sweet kid. "Were you all together at Anteiku?"

Hide's eyes narrow as if he's picked up on what Amon's really asking—if any of them saw something. _Dammit_. If Hide is this observant, Amon's in for a rough ride this year. Unless Hide decides to help him out, in which case…

"Yup," sings Saiko. "The guy who runs it is really nice."

"He is," Amon agrees.

"When you're better, we should all get dinner sometime," Shirazu suggests.

"Sounds good to me," Kaneki says, blinking.

"I think he needs to sleep now," Amon says loudly.

"Oh." Mutsuki jumps back. "Feel better, Kaneki." The three of them clatter away, Shirazu suggesting they head towards the lounge. Amon makes his way to his room, mind still churning. He should probably get Seidou and Akira to ask their charges if they saw anyone else.

All he knows about Rize Kamishiro is that she has a lot of enemies. Rize, apparently, isn't even her birth name.

 _But it would have to have been someone with permission to be on campus_. Amon chews his pencil.

_Who would do something like that?_

* * *

"What do you mean, she _ran away_?" Kaneki gapes at Shinohara, that security guy who looks like he comes straight from one of Takatsuki's books, and Amon. It's been four days since the incident, and he's finally been cleared to start classes.

" _Unlucky you," Nishiki commented, twirling his pencil._

"It appears she slipped out of the hospital last night," Mado says, his eyes narrow. "It's not the first time a student's made a break for it."

"But she was so injured." Kaneki still doesn't know why he hasn't told anyone about the knife, or her attempts to rob him. Not even Hide. Maybe because he can hardly believe it himself. Or because his mom would probably have encouraged him to be kind anyways. He remembers Rize shaking. _She was probably just desperate._

"Indeed," Mado agrees. Shinohara sighs, rubbing his temples. "But you seem to be making a full recovery."

"I—yeah."

"Your first session with Furuta was rescheduled for tomorrow," Amon says. "That's okay with you, right?"

Kaneki nods.

"You're sleeping all right?" Shinohara inquires.

Kaneki nods again. It's a lie, but at least the bruising covers the shadows under his eyes.

Last night, he dreamed that Rize bit into his shoulder, and then the steel crashed into him too, and then he realized he wasn't himself—he was Hide, and Hide was dying. Even though he could hear Hide and Nishiki both breathing evenly after he woke up, he couldn't reassure himself and lay awake for the rest of the night.

"You didn't take your pain meds last night," Amon comments.

"I think I'm okay," Kaneki says quickly.

Amon shrugs. "Well, I still have it, so if you need it, please do ask."

"We contacted your aunt," Shinohara adds. "She—"

"Didn't care," Kaneki says, heart thumping. "It's okay. You don't need to say it."

Shinohara's face softens. "Kaneki, if you need to talk, you're also welcome to come to me, or to Amon."

He manages a smile. "I know."

"Finally," Hide breathes when he comes back to their room. "You get to suffer through Tatara's chemistry class. He also apparently has a long-running feud with Houji, the history teacher. You'll probably love literature—the teacher's this weird little woman named Eto, and she loves tragedies judging by our reading list for the year, so yeah, you'll be good. And I assume you still get to skip Matsumae's gym class, which is good because it's hell. Totally brutal. You'll like drama too, Itori's such a gossip, and also art—Uta's weird, though. We have to construct these masks as a project and it's like he's psychoanalyzing us before he gives us a design he wants us to do."

Kaneki's head spins. "Um, okay."

"I can't believe you actually did the homework I gave you," Hide says. "But I'm glad. Means that concussion hasn't damaged your brain." He grins.

"I can't believe it either," Nishiki grumbles from his bed across the room. Hide has the top bunk above Kaneki.

 _What are you doing, trying to show off?_ Kaneki slumps on his bed. _Go away_ , he yells at his aunt's voice.

Nishiki leaves the room.

"By the way," Hide says. "Those juniors came up again while you were sleeping. They seem to look up to you."

 _For getting my head smashed_? Kaneki sighs. "I'll text them. I think I got their numbers."

"Cool." Hide sighs. "I better get to that mountain of chemistry work. Tatara's merciless."

"I think I'll—take a walk," Kaneki says, his heart thumping. His stomach churns with nausea. His homework's done, and he doesn't want to lie in bed, staring at the wooden boards supporting the bunk over him, and dream of Hide dying again, or that awful whooshing sound the beam made as it fell.

"Uh, will you be safe?"

"It'd have to be pretty bad luck to have another beam fall on me," Kaneki says with a fake laugh. "And I still don't know where a lot of buildings are. I might try to find the science block, and the art center too."

"'Kay." Hide pulls out his textbook.

 _Rize, where did you go?_ Kaneki wonders as he steps outside. The sun dips low in the sky, melting like an orange candle and setting mauve clouds aflame.

The questions that security guard, Mado, asked him sit uneasy with Kaneki. Amon, too, seemed suspicious.

 _Was it an accident? Or are they just being suspicious because they can tell I'm leaving something out_?

But turning Rize in, especially if she's a runaway now, won't help her. She needs counseling. Which she must be getting here, although with only one counselor, Furuta, Kaneki doubts it's sufficient. It wouldn't be kind to add to her burdens.

His hands in his pockets, Kaneki trudges along the paths winding through the buildings on south campus. The science building stands in front of him, three stories with outdoor hallways connecting the labs. He's signed up for both chemistry and biology, mostly because Hide's also taking them. But the class he looks forward to most is literature. Hide said they'll be reading Kafka, and then a list of Greek and Shakespearean tragedies too, and one TBA book later in the year.

 _Rize's life has likely been a tragedy,_ Kaneki thinks.

The art building, where literature is also taught, rises on west campus, right by the gate. A stone wall surrounds the entire campus of Re Academy. Supposedly behind this wall lies a lake. Kaneki thinks that would be inspiring for any teachers whose offices are in the art building.

Something scuffs against the paved paths. Kaneki jumps. _Not another—_

 _Oh_. It's just Nishiki, heading back from the gate. _Did you slip off campus_? Shinohara and the RAs are allowed to write them passes to go into town, but only on weekends. "Nishiki!"

His roommate turns and freezes. A small bag of what looks like weed dangles from his hand.

"Oops," Kaneki ekes out.

"Yeah," Nishiki says, taking a step closer to him. "Oops."

"Sorry—I'll just be—"

Nishiki lunges, grabbing Kaneki by his shoulders. Pain explodes in his injury. Kaneki bites back a scream. "What are—" Nausea bubbles up, and he stumbles back, but Nishiki's still gripping, fingers digging into his flesh— _it hurts, it hurts so bad_ —

"Listen," Nishiki growls, his breath hot against Kaneki's face. Gorge burns the back of Kaneki's throat. "Don't you dare say a word, Kaneki, or I will—no one who knew her believes Rize was just—"

"I'm going to be sick," Kaneki croaks.

"Don't you—" Nishiki shakes him.

That's it. Kaneki doubles over, retching.

Nishiki cries out, shoving Kaneki away. He slams into the ground, vomit dribbling from his lips as he heaves again. His hands shake. Sweat dribbles down his spine.

"You ruined my—"

"Nishiki!" shouts a voice that's vaguely familiar to Kaneki, even if he doesn't place it. "What the hell are you doing?"

Kaneki cranes his head up to see the blue-haired girl Hide thinks is cute marching over to them. _Touka_.


	4. Some People Just Want to Watch the World Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Finally, more Touka. :)
> 
> Warning for talk of substance misuse this chapter.

She really doesn't have time to deal with this.

But Touka's sick of Nishiki and his antics. She's had to put up with him the past three years. "For God's sake, Nishiki, he had a crane dropped on him!"

"Steel beam," Nishiki returns.

Touka shrugs.

"What are you doing out here?" Nishiki taunts.

"None of your business."

"Well, this is none of _your_ business."

"You're right." She shouldn't have intervened. She only wanted to go see her old friends. The holidays are lonely. "But you're a piece of shit, and you're starting to bother me."

Kaneki lets out a wheeze, and leans over again, hurling onto the pavement. Touka's nose wrinkles. The custodial crew is not going to have a fun night.

"If this is about your punk brother, I have no idea what he's been—"

"I don't believe you," Touka states, stepping closer. The putrid stench wafts up to her nostrils. Touka bites her lip to keep from gagging. "I think you should get out of here. Go smoke your skunk plant."

"Jealous?" Nishiki taunts. "Maybe I will sell some to your little brother. Although he seems like he's graduated to better things, doesn't he?"

Touka's fist flies out before she even thinks. Nishiki stumbles back, blood spurting from his nose.

"You _bitch!"_

Her foot flies out. Her shoe lands in his midsection. Nishiki tumbles back on his ass.

"Get out," Touka tells him, advancing. "And stay the fuck away from my brother."

Nishiki scrambles to his feet, fists clenched. He'd like to deck her, she's sure. He might. He just might. He takes a step closer, and Touka swings.

He dodges. "I'm not going to hit a girl."

Fury ignites. Touka grits her teeth. "I can take anything you have, _coward_."

It's the magic word for a lot of men. Nishiki's eyes narrow, and Touka's ready. He lunges at her, and her knee connects with his groin. Nishiki gags, stumbling back and clutching his groin. "You—"

"Want more?"

Nishiki glares at her, wiping the blood off his face. "This isn't over, you little bitch."

"Want more?" Touka repeats. _Please, give me a reason._ She'd love to pummel Nishiki into the ground. Faces fly around her—Ayato, her father, _Mom_ — _give me a reason, just give me a reason!_

"Good luck getting back before curfew," Nishiki taunts Kaneki. He spins on his heel, taking off towards south campus.

"Bye, prick," Touka mutters. Her muscles stay clenched. Her heart pounds. A stone lies on the pavement and she kicks it, sending it flying into a nearby tree.

"Thanks," mumbles Kaneki, getting to his knees.

"I didn't do it for you," Touka returns. "You should know how to defend yourself if you're gonna go to a school like this."

He sits back on his heels, face still green. The sky deepens to a rich dusk. "I'm not going to be like that," Kaneki says. "I'm not like that."

Touka throws back her head and laughs. "Not like _me?"_ Anger simmers inside her. _You really think you're better?_ "This school may be hell for you, but I've lived in hell my whole life. You don't get my sympathy."

He gapes at her. She checks her phone. They've got a half hour before curfew. Kaneki will be fine. "See ya."

"Wait—" calls Kaneki, and then he stops. Sand crunches under her boots as she strides off.

A sob echoes behind her.

 _Dammit_. Touka turns to see him doubles over, fists curled and shoulders shaking. "Do you need me to take you to the nurse's station?" Though it's on north campus.

He looks up at her, tears and snot running down his face. He shakes his head. "I—I d-don't want any—anyone getting in trouble."

 _Oh, goddammit_. Touka watches as he struggles to get to his feet, trying to avoid the puddles of splashed vomit. _Fine!_ She stomps over, reaching down to pull him up by his good arm. "Shouldn't you see someone? In case he re-injured something?"

"I really don't want—anyone getting in trouble," Kaneki repeats, muffling another sob. "He's—my roommate. One of them."

Touka heaves a sigh. "Fine. There's another option then."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Touka grabs him by the waist. He's not that heavy, but he leans on her and she has to shuffle forward. "Let me know if you're going to be sick again. I'm not washing vomit off my clothes."

"'Kay."

Alarm steaks through her. " _'Kay, I'm going to be sick now_?' Or _I'll let you know_?"

"Let you know," Kaneki pants.

She yanks out her phone and texts. A row of staff housing lies up ahead, and Irimi promised to meet her by the grove of cherry trees. Touka drops onto the rock wall, easing Kaneki down too. "Don't you have pain meds?"

"Amon has them."

"Oh, right." _Your RA_. "You should take them when you get back."

He nods.

"Touka!" shouts Irimi, one of the cafeteria workers, as she jogs over. Koma, a large man with a bulbous nose and an easy smile, follows. "We've missed you on west campus."

"Oh!" Koma exclaims when he sees Kaneki. "Who's this?"

"He's the boy who got crushed by that beam, can't you tell, Koma?"

"Can you call Yoshimura?" Touka asks. "I think he should look at Kaneki's shoulder. But he doesn't want Nishiki getting in trouble."

"Did he beat him up?" Irimi demands, her gaze dark. She fumbles for her phone.

Kaneki hunches his shoulders. "Not exactly."

"Did you beat him up?" Koma inquires, nodding at Touka's knuckles. _Oh_. Blood smears them. She hides her hands under her the folds of her skirt and shrugs.

"Yoshimura's on his way," Irimi announces, hanging up. "I'll go get that cake, Touka. Sorry we won't be able to eat it together, but you can take it back to your dorm room. I'm sure your roommates will love it."

"Thanks," Touka mumbles.

"Who's Yoshimura?" questions Kaneki.

"He manages Anteiku. The snack bar," Koma tells him. "Where did you get hit?"

"He just—grabbed my shoulders, and it hurt, so I threw up," Kaneki ekes out.

Koma _tsks_. "Well, we'll make sure you're okay. Yoshimura will call Shinohara if he has to."

"I really don't want him finding out," Kaneki protests.

"Not about that," Koma says. "He'd give an excuse, though."

"Huh?" Kaneki blinks.

 _You really are an idiot, aren't you?_ Touka thinks. "Some staff actually care enough to protect us."

"Don't say it like that," Koma reproaches. "Shinohara does, as well. And we won't cover for anything you've done, so if Nishiki reports you for assault, Touka, we aren't covering for you. But if you need help, we're here."

"Oh." Kaneki clearly doesn't understand.

"They're nice," Touka says bluntly. "They don't treat us like future criminals."

"Shinohara doesn't."

"No, but his role gives him less freedom than theirs does," Touka says as an older man appears along the path. "Yoshimura!"

"Touka," he greets her, shaking his head at the blood on her knuckles. "And you must be Ken." In his hand he holds two cups of steaming coffee. He presses one into Touka's hands and hands the other to Kaneki.

"For me?"

"For you," Yoshimura confirms.

Kaneki nods. "I don't think he hurt—"

"Well, let's just make sure," Yoshimura says. "I used to be a nurse."

"Do you work in the nurse's station?"

"No," Yoshimura answers, gently moving Kaneki's shoulder around. "Tell me when it hurts. They haven't had any open positions, and I'm quite happy brewing coffee for students."

"It's good coffee," Touka confirms. She scowls at Kaneki. _And you'd better drink it. So long as you won't puke it up._

Kaneki takes a sip and offers Yoshimura a weak smile. "Thank you."

"Your shoulder's okay," Yoshimura says. "But I assume you have a follow-up appointment with Banjou next week or so. You should mention that you fell on it, just so he can check and make sure your ligaments and muscles are fine."

Kaneki nods.

Irimi arrives, passing Touka a Tupperware full of chocolate cake. There's enough for Yoriko and Hinami, too. So this time Touka can share with Yoriko instead of the other way around, because Yoriko is always sharing her care packages with Touka. Irimi passes another container to Kaneki. "Here."

"Hm?" Kaneki's mouth parts. "For me?"

"Of course." Irimi smiles. "And now, Touka, you two should hurry back before you miss curfew."

Touka nods, hopping up. Kaneki wobbles to his feet. "You need a hand?"

He shakes his head, keeping his head down as they plod along. "They're really kind."

"They are," Touka allows. Yoshimura's the one who convinced her she should try for better grades, that college was a possibility for her future, that fighting wasn't the only way to survive Re Academy. _Although…_ She flexes her sore knuckles.

Her eyes slide over to Ken Kaneki. He's so quiet. His face is round and his eyes wide, giving him an innocent appearance. Touka doesn't know what happened with Rize before the steel beams fell, but she's willing to bet Kaneki was in no way getting anywhere with Rize, and that they weren't just wandering by. _Did she try to rob you? Have some of her friends waiting?_

 _You're going to get eaten alive in this academy_. Even with Rize missing, there's Nishiki. And if there weren't Nishiki, there'd be someone else. There's always someone else waiting to prey on anyone who shows the slightest semblance of weakness.

"Thank you for helping me earlier," Kaneki whispers as they cross the small stone bridge over a stream that leads back to south campus.

"Huh?" Touka wrinkles her nose. "I didn't do it for you."

"Why, then?" he inquires. She double-checks to make sure he's not taunting her. Nope, he looks confused. And curious.

"Because I don't want Nishiki Nishio thinking he can push me around all year," Touka says.

"How long have you been here?"

"Five years." Touka brushes her hair away from her eyes and lets out a sigh. "You better step it up, too, if you want to make it here. I know you're injured, but at least learn to fight, or how to walk to not seem like a target."

"I'm not going to fight," Kaneki says, his voice more solid and determined than Touka expects. "I don't think many people in this place are kind. I—I think maybe, if—"

"If you were kind, people would be kind back?" Touka throws her head back and laughs. "You and Yoshimura will get along well. Although not even he's that stupid."

"I'm not stupid."

"Possibly not," Touka admits, something sticky and heavy curdling in her chest. _Shame?_ "But you're naïve."

A smile crosses his face as they approach Dorm Block 20. "Thank you again."

 _Stop being nice to me! What can I do? Or say?_ "I can teach you how to fight. When your shoulder's healed."

He shakes his head.

"You might be surprised when you have to use it," Touka says. "And we wouldn't really be fighting. It'd just be practice."

Kaneki chews his lip. "I'll think about it."

Touka nods as she shoves the door open. "I'm coming up with you," she says as they enter the stairway. "I need to talk to my brother."

"Good night." Kaneki waves as she stops by the third floor entrance.

"Sleep well," Touka says. _Really?_ That doesn't even sound like her. She knocks.

"You're not supposed to be on this floor," the RA, Seidou Takizawa, greets her. A pencil's stuck behind his ear.

"I want to talk to my brother," Touka requests. Nishiki's words from earlier echo in her ears. _What are you up to, Ayato?_ He's refused to meet with Yoshimura, Irimi, and Koma so far this year.

" _Why bother? They're no one special," he scoffed when she caught him skulking outside the literature classroom during lunch today._

"You couldn't text him to meet you in the lounge?"

She shrugs. "He might not have agreed."

Seidou's eyebrows rise. "Fair enough. I'll get him."

"Thank you." Touka leans back against the wall. The white paint flecks off, and the gray of the metal stairway bubbles.

The door opens again, and a scowling Ayato, dressed all in black and with his hair dangling scraggly around his face, emerges. " _What?"_

"Am I interrupting your homework?" Touka doubts Ayato's so much as opened a book. She asked her junior roommate how he's doing in his classes, and Hinami reported he fell asleep in chemistry.

Ayato snorts.

"Yoshimura—"

"Don't tell me he asked about me."

"No, we had a situation to deal with." Touka keeps her voice low.

Ayato's eyes narrow as he takes in her knuckles. "Did someone hit you?"

"Don't pretend you care."

Ayato's eyes flash. "Then why are you here?"

"Because," Touka says. "You never respond to my texts, and you ignore me in the hallways except when I corner you—"

"You might be older, but you're not Mom, or Dad," Ayato says. "I have my _own_ life to live, _sis_."

 _What the hell is wrong with you?_ Touka could slap him. "And what's taking up all your time? I know you missed curfew yesterday. And what were you doing around the literature section at lunch? Nishiki said—"

"You can't believe anything that serpent says," Ayato says, rolling his eyes.

 _Stop making me seem like an idiot!_ Touka clenches her fists. "Can't I? Ayato, if you get caught for—"

"For what?" he taunts. "Say it, Touka."

"Are you on drugs?"

He throws his head back and laughs.

"You think this is funny?" Touka hisses. "I should—"

The door above them creaks open. Footsteps echo. Both of them immediately shut their mouths and study at their shoes. _We're still so alike,_ Touka thinks, her chest aching.

"What are you doing out here?" demands the voice of the fourth floor RA. Amon.

"We have Seidou's permission," Touka says, avoiding Amon's eyes.

"Fine." He pushes the door open, entering Ayato's floor.

"My roommate's probably setting things on fire again," Ayato says. "I better go."

"Answer my damn question first, Ayato!" Although he doesn't need to. _Dad would be so—_

His lips curve in a joyless smile. "I wish I was. It'd be nice to escape this shithole, even if it was only in my mind."

_My God, could you be any more melodramatic?_

_And you're a liar._

Ayato stalks through the door without saying good night.

* * *

"What happened this time?" Akira asks via Facetime. Girls aren't allowed on boys' floors without permission.

"Did you call her?" Seidou snaps.

Amon leans against Seidou's door. "We _are_ a team. Shinohara said so."

Seidou's face grows red. His room's fairly bland, no real decorations except a series of middle school trophies and certificates from an honor society displayed on the bookshelf. A navy blue bedspread lies dull on his bed, and he sits in his desk chair, back straight like he's at a meeting.

"I presume it has something to do with that Suzuya kid," Akira comments as if she didn't hear Seidou's rude comments. "Did he light something else on fire?"

"Yeah. His history homework, and then he put his fingers in it." Seidou shudders.

 _He what?_ "Did you take him to the nurse's station?" demands Amon.

"He wasn't hurt. Very much. Band-aids can take care of it, but he refused them because he seems to enjoy stressing everyone out."

Amon doubts that's true, but he doesn't contradict Seidou. "Does he have friends?"

"Are you kidding? Between him and his roommate, I'm surprised Dorm Block 20 hasn't exploded yet. Whoever decided to put them together clearly just wants to watch the world burn." Seidou leans over, head in his hands, and a rock drops in Amon's stomach.

_You think you're failing._

"How are the other three?" Akira asks.

"They're good kids," Seidou admits. "Shirazu's the friendliest of my charges by far, and Mutsuki's so quiet—it's hard to connect with him though—and Urie. He's always studying or painting. But they don't make any trouble."

 _But you can't connect with any of them_ , _can you?_ "It's okay," Amon says. "You know, one of my charges almost got killed before the year even started. Hide's friendly, but it's only a matter of time before I bust Nishiki for something. And Tsukiyama and Kanae are—odd."

"Yeah, we have our classes together," Seidou says with a snort.

"I guess I can't really complain," Akira says. "My roommate's lovely, and—well, I guess I have to personally drag Saiko out of bed every morning, and even then she's usually late which means I'm usually late, though I get a pass, and Kurona talks to her sister even though her sister's—you know. Not here anymore."

 _Dead_. Amon sighs. He remembers Kurona and Nashiro as freshmen, chasing him around because he took time to help them make the soccer team. _Nashiro, what happened to you?_

He already knows about their parents' murders. It's so wrong, for someone to have lost so much. When Akira told him, he felt sick.

_This world is wrong. We're all here because we've lost._

"But they're sweet too," Akira continues. "Kurona's smart, and passionate, and determined to get into med school—Dr. Kanou's kind of mentoring her, and Saiko's kind and funny. The other three are—harder to connect with."

"I don't think it's easy for any of us," Amon says, watching Seidou.

Seidou leans forward, covering his face. "But I really, really don't know what to do about Juuzou."

"He's good at art," comments Akira. "Isn't he?"

"Sure. If stitching his own skin counts as art. He says he doesn't feel pain. Like, at all, and frankly I believe him."

"Why not tell him he's good at art?" Amon asks. "He's taking Uta's class, right? Maybe try and—connect over that?"

Seidou sighs. "I'll try. Thanks."

"Has Shirazu tried to befriend him?" Akira wants to know.

Seidou rolls his eyes. "Like I said already, Juuzou talks to no one with anything other than sadistic nastiness except Shinohara. He's the only one who Juuzou seems to like, and frankly not all that much. But Shinohara seems to genuinely like him, asking to see his assignments and schedule and such. I don't get why he caters to such a freak."

"Well, that attitude's not going to help," Amon snaps.

"Sewing your own skin is not normal."

"Really," Akira says. "Very few here are really _normal_."

"Maybe you overestimate your own normalcy," Amon suggests.

"Huh?" Seidou glares.

"It's true," Amon says, the cross heavy around his neck. "None of us would be here if our lives were—picturesque. Except Akira."

"You don't know as much as you think," Akira says quietly.

Seidou grips the edge of his desk. The conversation's clearly not sitting well with him.

"We've got time to get to know each other," Amon says. "And Seidou, you have time with your charges. I think you'll do well."

Seidou stiffens. He cocks his head as if to say _why?_

"You know when to ask for help," Amon says simply.


	5. Live Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! No warnings this chapter, except for grumpy Urie. Next chapter we'll get more direct romance; in the meantime, enjoy (?) all the characters' growing unease with their own selves.

_Will the world remember you_   
_When you fall?..._   
_Is your life just one more lie?_

_"Drink With Me," Les Misérables_

* * *

"I hate him," mutters Urie.

"Who?" Shirazu asks, peering around the quad. Lockers line the walls, all painted red. A banner advertising tryouts for Re Academy's sports teams hangs overhead. _The Doves,_ Mutsuki reads.

"They probably chose that name because they think it makes us look less threatening. Lots of teams aren't particularly eager to play with criminals," Saiko comments. She seems to have attached herself to their group. Mutsuki likes her. She's fun.

"It's funny," interjects a girl with long dark hair. "Most people I've met here just have—their parents out of the way. I can hardly imagine a less threatening group."

Mutsuki shakes his head.

"Him." Urie jerks his thumb at the boy who's laughing by his locker. "Takeomi."

Mutsuki stands on tiptoe, peering at him. "What did he do?"

"We have a history," Urie answers. "Our fathers knew each other." He curses as Takeomi spots them staring and heads over. Mutsuki busies himself with triple and quadruple and quintuple checking that he has the right books for chemistry.

"So were you, like, always destined to go to this school?" Shirazu wants to know.

"Hey!" calls Takeomi as he wanders by, hand landing on Shirazu's hair. "You're the one who's thinking about trying out for basketball, right? You should. We really need more players."

Mutsuki has no plans to play sports. PE's bad enough. Shirazu's talked about going out for basketball, though. He and that senior, Hide, have been practicing a lot. And Mutsuki knows Amon does track and soccer.

Shirazu blinks up at Takeomi. "I will."

"Great!" Takeomi gives him a high five and hurries off.

"Oh yeah, he seems like a total asshole," Saiko drawls to Urie.

The girl with dark hair giggles, hand landing on Saiko's shoulder. "You're cute."

"Who are you?" Shirazu asks.

"Name's Ching-Li Hsiao," she chirps, thrusting her hand out. "From Dorm Block 11. Seen you in our classes."

On campus, there are five dorms each in south, north, east, and west campuses. Six total dorms house seniors and juniors, six house freshmen and sophomores, and the other eight house kids younger than that. Each dorm appears to be paired with another dorm from the same age range for their classes, and Dorm Block 20's schedule aligns with Dorm Block 11's.

"I've been here since middle school," Hsiao continues. "Heading to chemistry?"

Mutuski nods, and Hsiao leads the way. "I heard Tatara's assigning partners today."

"Why?" Urie grumbles.

"I still don't get why he teaches here when he hates everyone," Shirazu admits, scratching his head.

"Because clearly he's got some shady past that relegates him to having to deal with us," Hsiao jokes as they climb the cement stairs. She pushes open the door, heading to the boy she always hangs out with. "This is Shinsanpai Aura."

Aura lifts his head, and for the first time, his fair falls away from his eyes. Usually he keeps his head down and wears his hair like a mask. Uta teased him about it in art class the other day. "Hello."

"You know who we are, don't you?" Saiko plops down. "Do we get to pick our own partners?"

"Usually, yes," Hsiao responds. "But I think this year Tatara might be thinking that might lead to—well." Her eyes find Juuzou, who sits on the sill of the gaping window like he's contemplating jumping.

Mutsuki sighs. He takes out his notebook as Tatara enters the classroom. "Juuzou, get down." Tatara removes the red mask he wears.

Juuzou rolls his eyes but complies, hopping down.

"Do you think Uta's in love with Tatara or something?" whispers Saiko. "I mean, look. He wears that red mask every to and from class. There's gotta be a reason, right? And it can't be a coincidence?"

"I see Tatara hanging around the literature classroom a lot," Shirazu hisses. "Maybe he's in love with Eto. Poor Uta."

Mutsuki feels no sympathy for Uta. He creeps Mutsuki out, and he can't fathom how someone like that got a teaching position.

"I saw Uta eating at Yomo's apartment the other night," Hsiao adds, twirling her pencil. "Maybe _they're_ in love."

In horror, Mutsuki realizes that the classroom's dead silent.

"If you're done speculating on matters you have no business discussing," Tatara says coldly. "We'll begin."

 _He's never going to forget this_. Mutsuki knows his type. _We're screwed._

Shirazu shrugs. Saiko hides a laugh, and Urie looks as if he could flip the table in rage.

"Think he'll tell Uta?" mutters Saiko, just loud enough to Mutsuki to hear.

"Probs," says Hsiao.

 _Fuck_.

"You may pick your lab partner today," Tatara announces, holding up a sheet of paper. "And I will warn you to choose wisely." His gaze lingers on Hsiao and Saiko. "Because you will be working together for the rest of the year. For the more complicated projects, you'll pair up with another group for a total of four, but day-to-day, it'll be the two of you. Now." He lays the paper flat on his desk. "You have five minutes."

"Five minutes to make a wise decision? Are you nuts?" Urie growls.

Aura tugs on Hsiao's sleeve. She looks slightly disappointed as she turns from Saiko.

"How about it?" Shirazu grins, holding out his hand to Saiko. She chortles, taking it.

"Well," Urie says, looking at Mutsuki. "That leaves us."

Mutsuki nods. "Are you okay with that?"

"Better you than anyone else," Urie mutters.

 _Well, okay._ Mutsuki clutches his shirt and twists it between his hands.

"No way," breathes Hsiao, and Mutsuki peers to the front of the classroom, where she sees Juuzou and Hanbee Abara are the first lab pair to sign up. "I thought for sure he'd be stranded."

"Hanbee's my roommate," reports Aura. "He thinks Juuzou is cool."

 _Glad someone does._ Mutsuki wraps his arms around himself as he heads to the front of the room with Urie. _It's lonely when no one likes you._

They have drama next. It's the only class they share with seniors. Hsiao blabbers firstly about how Itori usually gives each of the three senior/junior classes she teaches a play to perform at the end of the year, and then about how she's seen Itori and Uta hanging out too.

"Maybe he's polyamorous," muses Saiko, chomping a chocolate bar.

Their group takes a seat next to Kaneki, who still sits stiffly, as if his injuries haven't quite healed. He recognizes them and greets them with a smile.

"Hi," says Hsaio, holding out her hand. "Ching-Li Hsiao. You're the Steel Beam Kid."

Kaneki turns red. Mutsuki bites back a smile.

"Today," announces Itori, appearing on the stage wearing a dress that may not entirely comply with the school's dress code. "You will be reading from Christopher Marlowe's _Faustus_. I'll assign each of you a role and a number. Get in your group and you will find you each have a role. Every group has to interpret the play in their own unique way—make it alternate universe, add capes, add superheroes, set it in a high school like Re Academy—but make sure you're faithful to the play and its meaning. You'll have two weeks to put together an abridged version and perform it." She claps her hands. "Doesn't it sound like fun?"

 _No_. Mutsuki finds himself in a group with Kaneki, who's horrified to realize he's Faustus himself.

"You'll be fine!" guffaws Hide, slapping Kaneki on the shoulder. "I'm the clown?"

"Bad angel," Mutsuki reports. He scans the scripts. _I don't like this play._

"Good angel," says Touka, smiling at Kaneki.

"Is this the play we'll be performing later this year?" calls out a boy named Higemaru.

"Absolutely not," says Itori. "We're doing a musical."

 _What?_ Mutsuki freezes.

"And everything you do in my class will be both graded and count as an audition," Itori adds. "You'll find out in a few weeks. I'm trying to finalize plans."

When class ends, Mutsuki heads off to his appointment with Furuta. _Maybe he'll have suggestions to how to stop panicking over the idea of a play_. Or maybe Mutsuki's performance in this Faustus scene will be enough to ensure he's never given a significant role.

Nico, the head of admissions, waves at him as he walks by. Dressed in a purple suit, Nico could hardly be more flamboyant. Supposedly he sponsors an LGBT support group for students, but he makes Mutsuki uneasy, too, so despite Furuta's suggestion last time, he doesn't want to join.

_I just want to pretend I was never anyone else._

* * *

"Classes going well?" Mado inquires.

"So far, so good," Amon reports.

"And in your dorm?"

"Kaneki seems to be settling in well." He drops his bag and takes a seat across from Mado. He's always felt more comfortable with the head of security, the one everyone whispers is _slightly off-kilter_ , than even the counselor. Shinohara might be a close second on the list of adults Amon trusts. "No more pain."

"Good." Mado takes a seat at his desk. "With you and Akira in that dorm, plus Shinohara, I doubt I'll have to deal with very many problems in Dorm Block 20."

"Even with Suzuya?"

"Juuzou?" Mado snorts. "Well, I'll give it to Seidou. They threw the roughest cases at him. I personally feel you'd be better suited to handle it, but I'm sure you and Akira will help him do an adequate job."

Amon nods. He studies the pictures on Mado's desk. One is of his late wife, Akira's mother. The other shows a younger Mado and an Akira who can't be older than four sipping from delicate china teacups. He smiles.

"Don't let your guard down," Mado warns him.

"Huh?" Amon's gaze snaps back to his mentor.

"I know you want to go into law enforcement," Mado says. "So you should learn this now. Just because your floor seems calm right now, doesn't mean it will stay that way. You've read Tsukiyama's file. You know what Nishio's capable of. Keep your eyes open—even when you're asleep, if you can—and never let down your guard."

 _What if they can change?_ Amon wonders. He sees the smiling, sweet face of a woman who looks so much like Akira in a photo next to Mado's computer.

"There are precious few people at this school for whom anyone retains any hope," Mado adds. "I've reminded Akira of that as well. She's got Fueguchi. Her parents were involved in that trafficking ring. It's possible they'll try to recruit the daughter."

"Do you really think so?" Amon's eyes widen. He clutches the cross around his neck.

Mado's lips jerk in a failed smile at Amon's stubborn piety. "I _know_ so."

 _But I was raised by Donato_.

The only good thing Donato gave him was this cross and prayers, and sometimes Amon wonders if it's a link to the devil more than it's a link to God.

"They may do well for a few months," Mado adds. "But they came in too late. Kids like you, Amon—you came in when you were still so young. Kids like Tsukiyama and von Rosewald—they're delinquents, and it's highly unlikely they'll change. I used to have hope, too, you know, but soon enough I realized it was futile." He picks up the photo of his late wife and turns it over and over in his hands. "Hopefully you'll be a good influence on Kaneki and Nagachika. If you want to make a difference, concentrate on them. They've got potential; you can help them realize it."

 _Like you're helping me_. Amon nods.

It's a lot to live up to.

He thinks of Donato again, and his hope cracks and shatters.

* * *

"This is going to be tough," Kaneki breathes as he studies his copy of _Faustus_.

"Yeah, well, you're gonna kill it," says Hide, twirling a basketball around on his finger. "I've got practice with Shirazu again. Wanna come?"

"I was thinking of going to Anteiku," Kaneki admits. He remembers the gleam in Rize's eye that night. _I want to see it again_. The place where he almost died. And he could also use some coffee, and thank Yoshimura.

"Cool beans." Hide grins at his own pun and claps Kaneki on the shoulder before he runs off.

Kaneki glances at one of the campus maps posted on wooden poles around campus. He doesn't want to take the same route as before. And he treks past his dorm to east campus. The screeching of saws and pounding of hammers tells him he's heading in the right direction.

Kaneki pauses at the top of the flight of stone stairs. The building's at least seven stories high, and one area is still marked off with yellow and black tape screaming CAUTION.

 _What happened to you, Rize? Where did you go_?

 _Did you run because you thought I'd tell? Or because someone outside offered you something more? And who the blast helped you?_ Because there's no way Rize could have moved on her own. She was still too hurt. Kaneki sighs and drags his hand over his forehead, where sweat prickles. The sun glares down at them.

 _Was it an accident_? Amon's questions set Kaneki ill at ease. If it wasn't, he surely wasn't the target.

_Did you really run away, Rize?_

A twig snaps behind him, and Kaneki jumps.

Touka stalks past. "H-hey!" he calls.

She halts halfway down the stairs. "Returning to the scene of the crime?"

"I just—"

"Never mind." Touka clutches the strap of her bag. A butterfly flits around her head. She holds her palm out, and it lands.

Kaneki smiles. The butterfly lifts off. "Where are you off to?"

"Visiting Yoshimura at Anteiku."

"Can I—come with you?"

Touka's eyebrows arch upwards as if he just asked if he could watch her shower. "You can do whatever you'd like."

He jogs after her. She keeps her mouth clamped shut.

"Touka!" calls Irimi as she rushes past carrying several boxes of chips. Anteiku comes into sight, a small white building the shape of a box. "Yoshimura will be happy to see you—and Kaneki!"

"He was just visiting the place he almost died," Touka reports. Kaneki's face flushes.

"It's not hard to imagine why," says Yoshimura, appearing at the large window. "With Rize gone, he might never get closure."

 _You understand._ Kaneki nods. "Did you know her?"

"Not well," Yoshimura answers. "I'll get your frozen yogurt, Touka. Want one, Kaneki?"

"I forgot my money," he admits.

"You can pay later." Yoshimura gives him the kind of smile Kaneki recognizes from picture books he read as a child, the kind a grandfather would give his newly found grandchild. "Rize was a troubled girl."

"That's putting it mildly," Touka scoffs, leaning her head on the red windowsill.

"She was—on something," Kaneki admits. "I think."

"Are you surprised?" Touka lifts her head. "We all want to get out of here. Some can't wait for graduation." Her tone's bitter.

Yoshimura returns with two cones of chocolate frozen yogurt. He hands one to Touka, who passes him some change, and one to Kaneki.

"I'll bring money later today," Kaneki promises.

"I trust that you're good for it," Yoshimura assures him.

"Yoshimura's one of the few people who actually trusts some of us kids," Touka adds.

"How long have you known each other?"

"A while." Touka bites into her froyo.

"I don't really know very much about how things work here," Kaneki admits.

"I don't know if you want to know."

 _Maybe not._ "Not if it means learning to fight."

"You'll learn about this place," says Yoshimura as he washes his hands. "You seem like a very sweet kid, Kaneki. There's nothing shameful about learning how to be smart about things here, and it won't damage who you are as a person."

 _How did you know that was what I worried about?_ The frozen yogurt freezes his brain. Kaneki rubs his forehead.

"I would not recommend learning how to fight though, except perhaps a few defensive moves," Yoshimura continues, drying his hands and focusing on Touka. "I _know_ those are the only moves you've been practicing, Touka."

She avoids his eyes. "Right."

He shakes his head. Kaneki licks more of the yogurt. _It's really good._

"If you need anything," Yoshimura adds. "You're always welcome to talk to me, or Koma or Irimi, Kaneki."

Kaneki shifts. He'd prefer these people to Furuta. The counselor makes him uncomfortable, prying for more information on Rize. "Thank you."

Touka watches him with an unnerving intensity. Kaneki frowns. _I'm not going to lose my humanity in this place._

His mother's voice echoes. _It's better to be hurt…_

She's been gone for years, and he still just wants to make her proud.


	6. Broken Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Enjoy the introduction of a certain feathered character.

_It's no use._

Hinami chews on her pencil as she tries to underline in her copy of _Othello_. Except none of it makes any sense, and neither Touka nor Yoriko are particularly skilled with literature, so they can't help her and so she's screwed.

" _Don't worry, Hinami," said Eto, their teacher, a tiny woman with teal hair and an easy smile. "I'm sure you'll do better on our next quiz."_

Maybe not, because the next quiz is _today_ , and Hinami woke up an hour early to try and study, went to the lounge in hopes that a change of scenery would help, and she's getting _nowhere_.

School's been in session for almost a month now, and still, every night Hinami finds herself wishing she were back at home, in the room next to her mom and dad's, where she could overhear their late-night conversations, their laughs.

_Why did you have to die?_

Hinami wipes at her eyes. _Concentrate_.

The door to the lounge opens. Hide, the redheaded senior, bounces a basketball and chatters about tryouts. His companion's the one who was in that accident before classes started. Hinami ignores them.

But that means the bell for breakfast will ring soon, and she'll have to leave, and she's still—

"Are you okay?"

Hinami peers up. The dark-haired boy—Ken Kaneki—peers down at her. Touka complains about him, but Hinami doesn't know why.

She nods, knowing her eyes are probably watering. _Oops_. "Studying."

" _Othello_ ," Kaneki reads. "I always liked that play. Iago's manipulation is—"

"We have a quiz today," Hinami blurts out.

"See you at breakfast," Hide says quickly, trotting towards the door. Sunlight pours in through the windows, drenching the room. It's hard to see the words on the page.

Kaneki smiles down at her. "We only have about twenty minutes, but do you want help?"

Hinami nods, shoving the book at him. He takes a seat next to her.

"It's more the language than anything," Hinami admits. "Eto doesn't want us using a modern version."

"Makes sense, but there are some tricks you can use," Kaneki tells her. "See, right here—this is Iago's monologue—"

He goes over the language, translating it more or less. Hinami tries to remember what he says. _You can pass. You can pass_.

"Hey, Hinami," says Touka as she and Yoriko appear. "Kaneki."

"He's helping me with _Othello_ ," Hinami blurts out.

Touka nods, her eyes sweeping over Kaneki. "Well, good."

Kaneki smiles down at her as the bell buzzes. Hinami can hear Akira from upstairs, cajoling Saiko out of the door. "Good luck today."

"Thanks." She takes the book back, swallowing. _Please don't let it be too late_.

"If you need more help, I'd be happy to help you," Kaneki tells her. "Books are my life."

"I never read much before," Hinami admits. "But I want to read more."

"I can lend you some books," Kaneki offers. "But first you should focus on _Othello_. Reading ahead might help; you'll have a better idea for the framing of the story."

 _Is this what it'd be like to have a big brother_? Hinami wonders as the four of them head outside into the warm air. When Hinami was younger, she used to draw pictures of herself with her parents and as many siblings as she could create, but it was always just her and her parents, and they were enough.

But they're gone now.

At least she has Touka, who feels like the sister she never had. Yoshimura, an old family friend, recommended they room together. And maybe she can have a brother, too.

* * *

"These masks are creepy," complains Kurona as Hinami leaves Uta's art class. Their teacher examines their work, commenting on Kuki Urie's use of paint. Urie taps his foot, clearly impatient to get to—well, the day's over. Studying, maybe. That's all Saiko says he ever does.

"Hinami!" calls Kaneki as Hinami trudges back towards the dorm. Thick, bubbling gray clouds cover the beautiful clear skies Hinami remembers from the morning. "How did it go?"

She spins around. "Not too bad."

He holds up his hand for a high-five, and Hinami giggles. Kurona waves and strides off, her head hanging low. Hinami sighs. Kurona seems to hold everyone at arm's length.

"Are you making masks in art class, too?" Kaneki asks, noticing the paint staining Hinami's fingers.

She nods. "Uta's… interesting." He seems like a student more than a teacher, with all his tattoos—even in his _eyes_ —and Goth-inspired outfit.

"He is," Kaneki agrees. "He seems pretty kind to me, though. Although his design for my mask isn't what I initially wanted to do."

"What—" A colorful bird sweeps in front of Hinami, feathers millimeters from her nose. She shrieks. A larger bird—a hawk?—charges after it.

"Hinami!"

The colorful bird slams into the glass window of Shinohara's apartment, shrieking in terror. Hinami flaps her arms, racing towards it. "Don't— _stop!"_

"Hinami, get—"

"Stop!" she screams again.

She sees Mom, standing in the rain, hears her scream again. " _Run, Hinami!"_

A drop of rain lands on her nose. The hawk dives to the right, screeching as it soars back up. Hinami dives towards the smaller bird.

"Son of a bitch!" croaks the bird.

Hinami freezes.

"Son of a bitch!" squawks the bird again. "Son of a bitch!"

 _You're a parrot!_ Hinami remembers watching an animated movie with one, once. The parrot worked for an evil man and was sick of eating crackers. Dad liked the movie so much he let her rewatch it three times in a row. And he made her popcorn.

"What's going on?" Kaneki pants.

"I think his wing's hurt," Hinami says, crouching on the ground. "Look, it's bent."

" _Son of a bitch!"_

"Where does he come from?" Kaneki wonders.

"No idea," Hinami says. "I'll take him to my room."

"You're going to keep him in your dorm room?" Kaneki asks, amused.

Hinami shrugs. "I can ask Yoshimura to set up flyers in town. He'll do it. And I can keep him in the meantime."

"Son of a bitch!"

"If Shinohara or Akira hear that, you'll be in trouble," warns Kaneki.

"Still." Hinami reaches out, and the parrot hops into her palm. It's not as if he knows what he's saying is an insult. It was something taught to him, no doubt, by a human with a bizarre sense of humor. "He's hurt. And probably scared, and lost. I can't throw him back out to get eaten by another hawk, or starve because he can't fly."

Kaneki nods. "Touka—"

Hinami snorts. "She'll deal with it."

"Are you an idiot? Are you _both_ idiots?"

Hinami lifts her head to see Ayato glaring down at them as if they're fungi growing on the wood chips.

"Y-you're Touka's brother, right?" Kaneki stammers.

"You're not going to be able to keep a bird a secret," Ayato informs them, crossing his arms. "And my sister will never let you, anyways. She wants to get into college, not get reprimanded for trying to fix some broken animal that terrifies her."

"He's not broken," snaps Hinami. "Just his wing."

"You have any idea what it's like to keep a bird?" Ayato demands. "You have to pick up bird-food, which isn't cheap, or earthworms, which—"

"It's starting to rain," Hinami chirps, looking up at the sky. The parrot nestles in her palm. "Perfect time to find worms."

Ayato's nose and lips curl in disgust. "You're just like my sister. But she's terrified of birds, and she'll never let you—"

"She's never mentioned that," Kaneki cuts in.

"Well, have you asked her?" Ayato adjusts the strap of his bag. "We used to have one. Touka and me. When we were kids. Then our dad disappeared and we were sent here and God knows what happened to it. It'll bring back bad memories."

Kaneki's gaze focuses on the ground. Hinami's chest tightens. "I'll ask Touka herself." Her fingers stroke the bird's neck. _I don't want you to suffer. Or Touka to._

"Son of a bitch!"

Ayato jumps back, his jaw hanging open.

"Look," Kaneki remarks. "It's properly judged your personality."

Hinami bites back a laugh.

Ayato's eyes narrow. "If you get my sister in trouble—"

"If you care about her, maybe respond to her texts," Hinami retorts.

"Whatever." Ayato storms towards the dorm entrance.

Hinami scurries after him, concealing the parrot against her chest. "What do _you_ think of birds?" she questions.

Ayato rips open the door to the stairway and charges up without an answer, damp shoes squeaking on the metal.

* * *

_You're sure they won't be coming back?_

Nishiki picks up his phone and sets his chemistry textbook aside. A smile blooms on his face. _No, Kaneki promised to help Hide with basketball._ Not that Kaneki stands a chance of accomplishing anything with that, despite having a working shoulder now. The daylight darkens as, behind the clouds, the sun drops lower, trying to slink away without showing its face.

Nishiki presses himself against the door to his room, listening. Not a peep from his RA, and the crazy duo next door are blasting music. As per always. Last night Amon had to yell at them to shut it off when Tsukiyama started blasting Beethoven at one in the morning. The excuse that it was _Beethoven_ did not fly.

The door opens with a rustle. Nishiki opens his door, and Kimi darts inside. He catches her in his arms, pressing his lips against hers.

"Stop," she hisses, pushing against his shoulder. "We actually do have to do homework right now."

"Sure." Nishiki releases her and leans back against his desk, glasses askew and a lopsided grin on his face.

She's not smiling.

Nishiki swallows. "Kimi, are you okay?"

She nods, dropping onto his bed and hugging the pillow against her midsection. "I heard something from Hide today."

 _Oh, shit._ Although Nishiki barely talks to his roommates anymore. He still shouldn't have gone all out on Kaneki that night. Or Touka.

"Nishiki, are you really smoking?" she asks.

 _Oh_. Nishiki rubs his forehead. "I mean—sometimes. Yeah."

Kimi's mouth stays in a flat line.

"I can get rid of it," he adds. "I don't—need it. It's just—"

"Comforting," Kimi puts in.

His eyes meet hers, and he sees that she does understand. Nishiki nods. "If it bothers you, I'll get rid of it." _And possibly kill Hide._

Kimi blinks. "You would?"

He nods again, mouth dry. Between pot or Kimi, he chooses the latter. A thousand times over. Pot dulls his senses; Kimi makes him come alive. She makes him laugh, she did better than him on their last chemistry exam, she's not afraid to taunt him and she does it all, somehow, while still enjoying _his_ company too.

When he first met her at the vending machine, he just thought she was pretty. He might get lucky and make out with her if he asked her to dinner. But dinner turned into breakfast too, and that turned into study sessions, and now—

"I'll flush it away right now," Nishiki says, making for his desk drawer.

"Stop," Kimi orders, catching his wrist. "You've got to be smart about disposing of it, Nishiki."

He smirks. "True."

Kimi gets to her knees, her fingers around his neck. She pulls him down for a kiss, and Nishiki ignites. He can taste the sweetness of the juice she must have just drank, feel her fingers pressing the knots in the back of his neck, hear her murmuring his name, and—

" _Nishio! Nishino!"_

Nishiki jumps back. Kimi falls onto the bed. _Oh, shit_. Now it looks worse than it is.

Amon glares at the two of them. "You're not allowed up here, Nishino."

Her face red, Kimi nods.

"And public displays of affection are—"

"It wasn't public until you barged in here," Nishiki points out, shoving his glasses up his nose.

"Fine. Making out is not allowed. Get back downstairs, Nishino."

Kimi rises, tapping her phone. Nishiki nods.

"Don't make me write you up," Amon warns, jabbing his thumb in Nishiki's direction.

"Can you blame any of us for trying to scrounge up a little love?" Nishiki can't resist asking.

Amon scowls. "Don't be so disrespectful."

"I wasn't." _She respects me. I respect her._

_You just see me as some kid trying to get laid, don't you?_

Whatever. He's used to labels. Jerk. Delinquent. Runaway. A pitiable case, except to his sister, and she's dead.

_I'll always be your sister, Nishiki._

_You're not. You're a corpse. You're dead. You lied._

He tries to study, but his eyes only take in words, not meanings.

_You're a fool._

He's stupid if he thinks Kimi actually cares.

 _Dinner?_ she texts.

 _I'm desperate enough to hope_. Nishiki hates himself. _Yes_ , he responds.

"I'm not hungry," she greets him in the lounge, the dinner bell still ringing.

 _And, there it is_. Nishiki bites back a scowl.

"Would you come to the library with me instead?" she asks. "I have protein bars. In case we get hungry later."

 _Oh._ Nishiki shrugs. "Why not?"

His boots stick to the mud smeared all over the cobblestones. The rain's stopped, but the clouds building above don't indicate it will be for long. Thunder rumbles.

"I love thunderstorms," Kimi muses, her fingers lacing through his. Mutsuki, Urie, Saiko, and Shirazu race past them.

"What exactly did Hide say about me?" Nishiki questions.

Kimi glances at him. "Are you worried?"

His stomach dives. "About what?"

"Well, Hide's my lab partner, as you know, and I said how much I hate pot and he said he was surprised, given how much time we spend together."

"Oh."

"I don't think less of you for it, you know," Kimi interjects. "I mean, I want you to find a better way to—cope with things."

Nishiki's glad the days are getting shorter, because his face is starting to burn and he does not want Kimi noticing.

But she already _has_ noticed. "Don't worry, please," she requests, stopping on the path. Her fingers trace his cheek. "I understand. I don't know how you—what you've been through. I can't judge that I would make any different choices, if I'd been through what you've been through."

"You think your life's been better than mine?"

"No," Kimi says. "I mean, I don't know. I don't think it's worth comparing."

 _Why are you at this school?_ Nishiki wants to ask, but the words stick in his throat. Her eyes shine, so sincere, and he feels so vulnerable here, so exposed. Heat rises in his abdomen.

"Library," Kimi says quickly, pulling him along.

"Library," he echoes dully.

"There's a—an alcove I want to show you. I heard some seniors from Dorm Block 11 talking about it." Kimi ducks inside the building, where they pass through metal detectors. He catches a glimpse of some foil in her jean pockets.

 _Kimi_? Nishiki's pulse hammers in his throat. _Are you really—_

She leads him up the stone flight of steps to the second floor, a curving balcony that sweeps around the shelves. A glass door opens into a small study room, dim with its lights off and dusk grinding the sun out of the sky. A few specks of golden light scatter across the floor.

"Through here," Kimi says, crouching by what looks like an air vent built into the wall.

"Huh?"

"Trust me, silly," she says, flashing him a grin.

And he can't do anything except nod. _I do. I trust you._

Kimi yanks the vent open, and Nishiki realizes it isn't a vent at all. It's an entrance to a small crawlspace behind the shelves and under the sloping roof of the building. One of the ornate, stained-glass windows, the round one at the front of the library that depicts a rose, red and white, gleams against the sunset.

"Wow," Nishiki says, crawling over to the window and peering down below. Two students mill about on the grass below, but he doesn't care about them.

Nishiki turns around, his hand cupping the base of her head as he presses his lips into hers. Her mouth opens, and he drives deeper. His heart beats wildly inside his chest. Kimi's breaths come short and quick.

There have been other girls. Several. But he never cared about them. Kimi's hands curve against his shoulder blades, gripping him as he fumbles in her jean pockets. _At least you come prepared._

"How many people use this room?" he pants.

"I don't know and I don't care," Kimi manages. Her chin presses into his cheek.

Nishiki snorts. When she laughs, her chest presses into his. She leans back, pulling him on top of her, his hips resting between hers. His hands snake under her shirt. She kisses the nape of his neck, her teeth scraping his flesh.

Kimi keeps her eyes open, glued to his face. There's little he can hide. The other times—it wasn't like this—they were just a way for Nishiki to enjoy a night—they never gasped his name—did they even know his name?—they didn't know precisely how to move their hips—

Nishiki groans, his head dropping onto Kimi's chest. He feels her hands in his hair. She shakes.

But the shaking doesn't subside. Nishiki lifts his head. "Kimi?"

Tears roll down her cheeks.

 _Oh, Christ, what have I done_? He's never had this happen before. He doesn't know what to do. Nishiki rolls off her, his hand hovering in front of her face. "Are—did—"

"Sorry," Kimi ekes out, wiping her nose. The last shards of red-stained light scrape across the floor towards the window. "It's not you."

"Okay…"

"My parents and brother were killed in a car crash a month before school started," Kimi blurts out, covering her eyes with her forearm. "I just—I haven't—you're the first person who reached out to me. I thought I'd spend this year lonely because—but you—"

_I surprised you?_

_You surprised me._

When he first met her, he thought she was cute, just like those other girls he's had sex with. But she's more than that. She's Kimi.

And a chunk of his wall dissolves into dust. "I barely remember my parents," Nishiki admits, his gaze on the dark ceiling. "My sister raised me, but she ran into hard times—she got killed too. Shot. I watched her die." Bitterness creeps into his tone.

_Why did you leave me?_

He hates himself for his own irrationality. He hates her for breaking her promise.

Kimi's hand reaches out, gripping his. Their breaths slow, returning to normal as the light drifts away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you all enjoyed Hetare (I can't write a Tokyo Ghoul fanfic, even an AU, without including that bird :P), and the brief fluff, because that's about to end for awhile :/. Next chapter, the plot starts to pick up pace.


	7. Rabbit, Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We finally get Juuzou (a fave character of mine) and, well, some potential tragedy.

"Why?" Juuzou asks, cocking his head. He trots after Shinohara.

"Because Furuta reported you for not going to your sessions," the dorm parent says.

"Did Seidou report me for lighting his math textbook on fire?"

Shinohara whirls around. "Did you light his math textbook on fire?"

 _Oops_. Juuzou interlaces his fingers behind his back, hopping from cobblestone to cobblestone, avoiding the cracks. "He annoyed me again. Even my roommate hates him. He's such a stick-in-the-mud."

"Well," Shinohara says, pausing along the path. Juuzou sighs, coming to a halt. "When did you do this?"

"Last night." It was all too easy to enter Seidou's room when the RA was taking a shower. He had yelled at Juuzou for stitching his arms again. _"Why don't you spend your time doing something productive, like studying?"_

" _Doesn't seem to make_ you _happy," Juuzou taunted, watching as Seidou's already red face swelled._

"Well, he didn't report you for it yet," Shinohara says.

_Oh._

"He should have, though—you know that, right?"

"It didn't completely burn," Juuzou says with a shrug. "He dumped water on it pretty fast. Only the cover's blackened."

"That's not really the point, Juuzou." Shinohara's hand lands on Juuzou's shoulder.

He frowns. A horde of ants scurry across the path in front of him. He crouches down, letting one run up his finger.

"Do you like insects?"

"I like giraffes," Juuzou says, squishing the ant between his thumb and forefinger. "And cats. It's fun to draw them."

Shinohara smiles down at him. "You'll have to show me your drawings sometime. You're making masks in art right now, right?"

Juuzou shrugs. " _I'm_ not. I'm drawing."

Shinohara snorts. "I bet Uta loves that."

Juuzou doesn't care much for the art teacher. Uta seems more amused with him than anything else, which makes Juuzou feel like a spectacle. He hates it. Plus he told them all to take their masks home and finish them overnight, Juuzou has no interest in obeying.

"It's up this way," Shinohara says, heading up a hill towards the block of central offices. A red roof sits on top of a building made of gray stone. A garden blooming with flowers welcomes them. Juuzou stops to study a pink rose. It's pretty.

Shinohara holds the door for him, and Juuzou ducks inside. A sign reading "PRINCIPAL WASHUU" sits across from another door with a sign reading "DEAN ARIMA."

Juuzou raises his hand to knock.

"Not that one," Shinohara interrupts with a laugh.

Juuzou blinks. "You said we had to see the principal, didn't you?"

"Vice principal," Shinohara corrects, but with a smile that doesn't suggest Juuzou is stupid. "Marude." He smiles back as Shinohara heads to the next door on the left and knocks.

"Yukinori!" a stern-faced man greets him as he swings the door open. He stops still, glancing at Juuzou. "I thought you said the problem was with one of the junior boys, not girls."

Shinohara's face turns white. Juuzou's heart throbs in his chest. He glances down at his baggy pants, his suspenders. "What?"

" _You're so beautiful as a girl, Rei."_

"This is Juuzou," Shinohara says, voice tense. "The boy Furuta emailed about."

"Oh." Marude doesn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. He adjusts his tie. "Did you skip a few grades?"

"I'm sixteen," Juuzou says. He can feel Shinohara watching him.

"Oh," Marude says again. "Is he the—"

" _No_ , he is not," Shinohara cuts in. "And let's not bring up that other student's situation. It deserves to remain private."

Marude nods. "Well, come in."

"You aren't going to apologize?" Juuzou demands as Shinohara takes a step forward. Juuzou stays rooted to his spot. He's not setting foot inside that office.

"Mistakes happen, Juuzou—Suzuya, was it?" Marude retreats to his desk, grabbing a file folder. "Now, we need to discuss why you aren't—"

"Why would I want to discuss anything with you when you're rude and you can't even admit it when you say something that's not true?" He's seen men like Marude before. Dozens of them. All cowards in the end, stupid ignorant beasts who can't believe what's right in front of them.

" _This_ is what you've been dealing with, Shinohara?" Marude's eyebrows surge up his forehead as he drops into his leather swivel chair. "Good grief. And I thought—"

Marude's face blurs in front of him, mixing with so many other faces. Juuzou lunges at him. He can almost hear the same cheers, the same taunts—

"Juuzou, no!" shouts Shinohara, but Juuzou's mouth clamps onto Marude's ear. "Stop! Please!"

It tastes salty in his mouth. Strong arms clamp around his midsection, dragging Juuzou away. Screams echo, and red bleeds, and someone's shouting about the police and a monster, and Juuzou's shaking and Shinohara's dragging him out of the room, across the hall.

"Sit," Shinohara orders, flicking on the light of the other office.

Juuzou obeys. _Are you mad at me?_

"What made you—"

"I wouldn't have if he'd just apologized!" Juuzou defends himself. Anger surges. _I'm not a girl!_

"You can't do that here," Shinohara says.

"But he—" Footsteps echo outside. Voice shout back and forth. The doctor—Kanou—he's here, and that nurse Banjou too. And Shinohara pulls out his phone, mumbling Seidou's name.

"Listen to me," Shinohara says, dropping to his knees and reaching for Juuzou's hands. Blood flecks them, and ant guts, but Shinohara still holds them. "You can't do that again. You hurt someone."

"But he said something that wasn't true about me."

Shinohara's face softens. "He hurt you?"

"No." Juuzou scowls. "It just wasn't true."

"Excuse me." The door opens, and a white-haired man with glasses steps outside, a briefcase in hand.

"Arima," Shinohara greets him.

"Shinohara. Juuzou, I presume." Arima sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Did you call his RA?"

"Just messaged him," Shinohara reports. "I'll stay with Juuzou until he gets here."

Arima nods, pushing the door open.

"Why just until Seidou gets here?" Juuzou demands. "Seidou doesn't like me and so I don't like him." _You like me. At least it seems like you do._

Shinohara sighs, knees cracking as he gets to his feet and slides into the chair next to Juuzou. "You're going to be written up for this, Juuzou. I'll have to go and give an account of what I witnessed. You'll probably be dorm-grounded. For a long time."

"I'm okay with that," Juuzou says. "I can draw more. And talk to you." _Because you're nice._ At their last dorm meeting, Shinohara brought them all donuts. Juuzou had never had one before, but now he craves another one. The one he ate was covered in chocolate frosting and had sprinkles on it. It was colorful.

Shinohara shakes his head. "Please don't do that again, Juuzou. What he said was wrong. You're right. But please don't hurt anyone else like that."

 _Are you hurt because I hurt him_? Juuzou wonders. A strange feeling clogs his throat.

"Even if you don't mind it, _I_ don't like seeing you punished."

 _Oh._ Juuzou frowns. "Okay."

* * *

"It's the perfect window," Hinami breathes.

"Are you sure?" Yoriko wrings her hands, the bowl of brownie mix on her desk.

"Both Shinohara and Seidou are out, and security's there too," Touka reports.

"Son of a bitch!" squawks the parrot.

 _My thoughts exactly_ , Touka thinks.

"Must have been bad, whatever that kid did," Yoriko comments. "Touka, aren't you worried about Ayato sharing a room with him?"

"You have no idea how worried," Touka grumbles, checking her phone.

Kaneki's texted. _I want to help._

"Our dorm's on lockdown," Yoriko warns. "If the two of you go out, Akira could notice."

"Well, she hasn't noticed Hetare yet," Touka says. "But she will. Irimi says her friend will take him, and her friend will only be here tonight, at nine-thirty. We seriously couldn't have asked for better timing for a Juuzou meltdown."

Hinami texts Kaneki back. _We're leaving now._ Touka swallows. "Hinami, get your mask."

"Huh?" Hinami blinks, the bird already in her hands. Hetare pecks at her hands. "Ouch!"

"Careful!" gasps Yoriko. "I've got band-aids—"

"Don't worry about it," Hinami insists. "It's not bad. I'll get one when we get back." She meets Touka's gaze, worrying her lip.

_We need to go._

"Make the brownies in the lounge kitchen," Touka instructs. "If Akira asks, Hinami and I are studying. We'll be back in a half hour." She shrugs into her jacket. They also couldn't ask for better timing for Uta to assign them to finish their masks. It's almost _too_ perfect.

"Okay, Rabbit," Yoriko says. "Be careful."

Touka slips her mask under her arm and slides the door open, tiptoeing down the stairs.

Kaneki waits in the lounge, bouncing his leg up and down.

Touka's jaw drops. _I didn't think you were serious_. "Hi."

"Hi," he says, shuffling his hands around his mask. It _is_ kind of creepy, Touka notes. "Hinami has the bird?"

" _Son a bitch,"_ Hetare moans from inside Hinami's clasped hands.

"That answers that," Touka says, a smile failing on her lips. "Let's go."

Kaneki follows them out of the dorm. The paths are deserted.

"Do you know what happened?" Hinami asks, lifting her mask to her face as if she wants to try it on.

Kaneki shakes his head. "Not officially."

"But?" Touka prompts.

" _But_ , what Hide heard is that Juuzou sucked out Vice Principal Marude's ear bone. But that sounds like of outlandish," Kaneki adds.

 _Only you would use a word like "outlandish_." Touka shakes her head. The night air sends goosebumps surging up her arms, down her neck. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"Really?" Kaneki turns to look at her.

"How is that even possible?" wonders Hinami.

Touka lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "Weirder things have happened at Re Academy. Don't forget who you're living with."

"People," Kaneki says.

"Who've done some pretty awful things," Touka corrects. "It's naïve to pretend otherwise."

Hinami titters. Touka turns to glare at her. "Kaneki, you're too idealistic, and Touka, you're too cynical. You balance each other out."

 _Huh?_ Touka turns to look at Kaneki, whose eyes are wide in surprise. He ducks his head.

She can yell at Hinami later. Touka focuses on hurrying down the flight of steps towards the west campus gate.

They press through the alleyway behind the gym and one of the dorms. It reeks like boys' socks. And after living with Ayato most of her life, Touka knows how terrible those smell.

"Touka," interrupts a voice.

She jumps, a hand flying up to her mouth.

"It's me," Irimi says. "And—hello, Hinami and Kaneki."

"We have Hetare," Hinami says quickly, lifting the bird, which chirps.

"Oh, now you're going to act innocent," Touka grumbles. _Stupid thing._ She'll be glad to see it gone, have it stop haunting her nightmares.

"My friend will take good care of him," promises Irimi. "But the three of you really need to hurry back."

"Why are you out here?" Kaneki questions.

"Because security's in an uproar over what happened today," Irimi answers.

"Is it true?" Touka blurts out. "About the ear?" Her stomach churns. _And that's Ayato's roommate?_

Irimi hesitates. "You'll have to ask your dorm parent."

 _That's a yes._ Touka could vomit.

"You need to get back before you're missed," Irimi insists, taking Hetare.

" _Son of a bitch!"_

Irimi chuckles. "So you weren't exaggerating."

"Nope," Touka says. "He's a foul-mouthed bird. I hope your friend isn't easily offended."

"Don't worry." Irimi winks. The wind blows, and Touka shivers.

"Thank you, Irimi," Hinami says. "Take care of him?"

"I will make sure my friend texts you pictures," Irimi promises.

Kaneki smiles. Touka follows suit. _Why? Why am I smiling?_

"Get going," Irimi orders. "Masks? Really?" She shakes her head. Even in the dark, Touka can tell Kaneki's flushing. Hinami shrugs.

Touka slips through the alleyway again, wrinkling her nose. Hinami sniffles.

"Are you okay?" Touka asks.

"I miss Hetare."

 _And your parents_? Touka swallows. She sees Kaneki put his hand on Hinami's shoulder.

A laugh rips through the air. Touka freezes, her shoe in a puddle and fear gnawing at her stomach. Footsteps echo on the flight of stairs around the side of the gym. "I'm telling you, Mado—"

_Security._

"Over here," hisses Kaneki, grasping her arm and dragging her behind the dumpster outside of the gym. The door to the girls' locker room sits behind them. They crouch down, Hinami pressing against her. So that's where the smell's been coming from. Touka covers her mouth. Kaneki's hand stays against her arm.

"Did you hear something?" asks Mado's crinkly old voice.

Touka cringes. They can't get caught. She doesn't want any sort of mark on Hinami's record here. Hinami wants to be a doctor. Hinami _can_ be a doctor.

"I don't know," says another voice. _Amon_? Kaneki's RA?

Judging from the way Kaneki covers his mouth, yes.

"We have our hands full already without worrying about—" Seidou's voice starts.

"No, _you_ have your hands full," snaps Mado. Leaves crunch under his boots as he steps off the stairs.

"Here," Kaneki grinds out. He reaches behind him, fumbling for the door to the locker room.

"Isn't it locked?" Touka's heart beats wildly. Yoshimura will be so—even if Irimi—

The door cracks open. Touka shoves Hinami through before the girl can protest. She grabs her mask and slips it on.

Kaneki copies her. Hinami doesn't bother. The door closes with a click, and Touka can't see an inch in front of her. She can only hear their breaths, Hinami's panicked, Kaneki's breaking, and her own, angry.

"This way," Touka whispers, hoping she's right as she moves forwards, groping through the air with her hand in front of her. Eventually her fingers catch on some hinges. There's got to be a doorknob. Here. Not here. There? Up? No, _here_. She grasps it, twisting it open.

Now they're in the gym. The door echoes as it shuts. Touka jumps.

"Do you think they heard that?" Kaneki whispers.

"No idea."

Hinami grabs Touka's hand. She squeezes. _It'll be fine. You're not a delinquent. Not like me._

The door to the gym flies open, and in that split second, the flash of lights from the streetlights that light up the paths, Touka gets a glimpse of the three exits.

"Hey!" bellows Mado's voice. "You—"

Darkness covers them again, and judging from the sound of footsteps rushing away from her, to the left, Touka knows Kaneki had the same idea. She grabs Hinami and pushes, pulls her towards the exit to the right—they'll have to climb over the fence to get back to south campus from there, but they can do it—it's less likely anyone's waiting on that side—

 _Stairs,_ Touka remembers as she fumbles for the doorknob. Her fists clang against the door. Too much noise—not enough—soon the lights will be on— _where's the knob, where's the bloody fucking knob?_

"I got it!" Hinami shrieks, yanking it open.

"Shut up!" The door almost bangs Touka in the nose. She ducks and scrambles through the door. "Stairs—on your left—second story—there's a door!"

Hinami runs ahead of her, and then Touka hears the door bang behind her— _no_ —a hand grabs her ankle.

"Got you!" shouts Mado, triumphant.

 _Why him?_ Touka reacts on instinct. She kicks back and hears a grunt. The fingers tear from her legs and she scrambles up.

And then she hears a crash.

"Touka?" Hinami breathes.

Touka yanks out her phone, shining the light.

Mado lies at the bottom of the stairs in a crumpled heap. His legs twitch. A thin line of— _oh my God, is that blood?—_ trickles from his temple.

Hinami shrieks.

_I didn't—I didn't mean—I didn't—no!_

Something black and sharp bites down on her shoulders. Touka doubles over. She can't speak. Her breath comes harried; her tongue moves, but she can only wheeze, not talk.

"We—" Hinami starts, but Touka can't handle this. She grabs Hinami's wrist and charges back up the stairs.

 _I need to get out of here_. The fresh air suffocates her instead. She manages to leap the fence. "Aren't you coming?" she cries out, seeing Hinami, who stands there with tears falling down her face.

Hinami shakes her head. "I really am an idiot." But she reaches up, gripping the fence and pulling herself over.

Touka stumbles, her legs shaking. _Kaneki, did you make it?_

_You're going to hate me, aren't you?_

A scream echoes behind her, a scream Touka recognizes.

 _Akira_.

She takes off towards the dorm, tears streaming down her face. Hinami follows, sobs tearing from her lips.

* * *

"I know you're in here."

Kaneki flattens himself against the wall next to the lockers. His fingers fumble with his mask, and he takes it off.

 _I hope Hinami and Touka got away_. He could duck out the back door by the dumpster again, but Amon's in the center of the room, blocking his way to both exits.

His RA takes a step closer, boot echoing against the tiled floor. Kaneki tenses.

 _Between this and the Rize incident—he's really going to think I'm a bad person_. A sob rises in Kaneki's throat.

Light skitters across the floor. Amon's flashlight. "If you come out now, it'll be—"

Kaneki swallows. _Should I?_

Amon's flashlight beams on his face. Kaneki yelps, covering his eyes from the blinding glare.

"Really?" Amon demands. "You?"

Kaneki peeks out through his fingers.

"You were probably the—last person I would have thought of who would be sneaking out right now," Amon informs him, rubbing his face with a groan. "Ken. What were you—"

He shakes his head. _Touka, Hinami, please get away._ "I promised. I can't tell."

Amon holds something out to him. Kaneki frowns, before he realizes it's a breathalyzer. "I wasn't—"

"Well, if you're caught out after hours like this, and with all that running, you're getting drug-tested in the morning." Amon taps the breathalyzer. "Come on."

Kaneki steps forward and breathes. His shoulders hunch.

Amon nods. "So you were telling the truth about not drinking."

Kaneki nods, wishing he could disappear. He can hear Hide's _what the hell man?_ already.

"Where are your friends?"

He shakes his head. "I really don't know."

"Would you tell me if you did?"

Kaneki shakes his head again.

"I don't understand," Amon informs him.

 _Huh?_ Kaneki blinks. "I was—out—trying to help someone. That's all. I promise." His hand grips his chin.

"Yeah, well, you still weren't supposed to be out, and you'll get drug-tested and dorm-grounded as a result." Amon scowls as he re-pockets the breathalyzer. "Our dorm's already got enough to deal with. We really don't need this."

"I _am_ sorry," Kaneki ekes out.

"Hm." Amon frowns.

A scream tears through the air.

Kaneki jumps. Amon whirls around.

"Amon! Amon!"

It's Seidou. The door to the locker room bursts open. Seidou's eyes narrow in fury when he sees Kaneki. " _You!"_

"What's going—" Amon starts. Kaneki shrinks.

"Call for help," Seidou informs him. "Mado's hurt."

" _Akira!"_

"No, your mentor." Seidou takes off through the door.

 _What?_ Kaneki flies across the gym, after the two RAs.

"Never mind, I'll do it!" snarls Seidou, ripping Amon's phone out of his hand.

Sobs tear from behind one of the side doors. Kaneki's heart starts to pound. Gorge bubbles in his throat as he peers around the door to see Akira kneeling by her father, cradling his bloodstained head in her hands.

_Touka, what have you done?_

"Who did this?" Amon bellows, grabbing Kaneki by his shoulders.

"I don't—I—I can't—" _She wouldn't have! Hinami wouldn't have let her._

 _What if he dies?_ Kaneki covers his mouth, tears falling from his eyes. His knees grow weak.

Amon curses. Kaneki crumples against the wall as they call for help. _Please be okay. Please be okay._ The way Amon looks at him—it's like he's a monster.

_What have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it wasn't Marude's cochlea Juuzou sucked out in the manga, but it worked to introduce him in this story. Hope you don't mind!


	8. Obsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And now, the chapter... in which Kaneki, true to form, manages to make things worse for himself and our Dastardly Duo (aka, Tsukiyama and Kanae) plot.

_I love him_

_But every day I'm learning_

_All my life_

_I've only been pretending_

_"On my Own," Les Misérables_

* * *

Hide doesn't demand answers, but his eyes are wide when Amon, tear tracks down his face, drops Kaneki off in his room. "Kaneki?"

Kaneki shakes his head. He can't bring himself to talk about it. And he doesn't want to call or text Hinami or Touka, in case they decide to search through his phone. Curled under his blankets, Kaneki's mind races and races with the image of Mado broken on the ground, the sound of ambulance sirens, Akira's sobs, and Amon's too.

His mother's voice echoes. " _Instead of a person who hurts others, become the person who gets hurt. It is okay if you lose because of your love and kindness. Ken, a kind person only needs those things in order to be happy."_

_I hurt someone. Badly._

Kaneki presses the back of his hand over his mouth. _I wasn't thinking—I—_ he can't imagine what his mother would say if she were alive.

He lies awake most of the night, shame weighing him down. He can't even cry. Amon hates him now. Hide will be so disappointed when he finds out. _Please don't hate me._

The alarm goes off and Kaneki hears Nishiki and Hide both getting up for showers. He stays under his covers. Amon told him he won't be attending classes today.

His phone rings. Facetime. Frowning, Kaneki answers, shoving his headphones in.

Touka. And Hinami.

"Did you get—"

Touka shakes her head, covering her face. Tears stream from her eyes. "You?"

He nods.

"Did you—"

"No," Kaneki cuts in. "And I won't." _Turn you in._

Touka lowers her hands from her face. "It was an accident," Hinami blurts out. "He reached for Touka—she just kicked—she didn't mean for him to fall."

"Don't defend me," Touka snaps. Her lips pucker like she's going to be sick.

"Touka, you didn't mean to," Kaneki manages.

"You believe me?" Touka lifts her head, indigo hair falling over her eyes.

He nods.

"Am I a bad person?" Touka whispers.

" _No_ ," Kaneki blurts out. _It was an accident—you have no reason to trust adults_ —he doesn't know the specifics of her situation, but from the brief mention of her father abandoning them from Ayato and the fact that both siblings are here, he's guessing both of her parents are gone. "You're not."

"Akira says he's going to be okay," Hinami says. "The doctors are optimistic. But he had a brain hemorrhage from how he fell."

 _Oh, my God._ Kaneki isn't sure whether he should be relieved or horrified. "But he—"

"Akira says they're looking for a girl with a blue skirt," Hinami reports. "They don't know who she is. They didn't see the mask."

"I'm throwing that skirt out," Touka vows, wringing her hands.

Kaneki nods. The door opens, and he hangs up without another word. She'll understand.

"Talking to your accomplices?" Nishiki drawls, bare-chested from his shower.

"Excuse me?" Kaneki blurts out. His heart leaps up his throat.

Hide wanders in a moment later. "Kaneki, aren't you—"

"Oh," says Nishiki, shrugging into a shirt. "Didn't you know, Hide? I heard it from Amon last night. He's suspended for the day. He'll have to give evidence to the police, and he'll probably lie because he doesn't want his girlfriends to get in trouble. You did hear that Akira Mado's father—the security creep, the one who looks like he died last year—got attacked by a student last night, right? And Kaneki was running with the girls who did it?"

Kaneki can't breath. All his muscles contract, curling, trembling. Tears burn in his eyes. _Why are you like this?_

"You're just a murderer," Nishiki taunts. "Guess this place was appropriate for you, after all."

"That's not what—" Kaneki shakes his head, eyes glued to Nishiki and his flushed face. He can't look at Hide. "That's not—I mean—"

"Quit stuttering, you coward."

"Shut up," snaps Hide.

Kaneki's spine curves as he doubles over. _Don't defend me._

"Amon caught him at the scene of the crime," Nishiki says. "I heard him talking to Shinohara last night. The walls between our rooms are thin as paper. You can't deny—"

"Kaneki's my oldest friend, and _I know him better than you,"_ Hide snarls. "You're just a bully with a—"

"You know nothing about me, Hideyoshi," snaps Nishiki.

"I know that you're full of shit."

"Hide," Kaneki intervenes. "Don't."

"No, Kaneki, this guy's saying—"

"I _was_ there!" Kaneki screams. "It was an accident; I don't know how—I wasn't—I didn't push him—I was hiding—I was trying to help—but I was _there!"_

"See?" Nishiki says triumphantly. "Man, Hide, your skills of denial must be fun trying to dismantle in your sessions with Furuta—"

"I _know_ he was there, Nishiki," snaps Hide, keeping his eyes glued to Kaneki.

_You do?_

_What do you think of me?_

"I never thought he wasn't. But you don't know Kaneki. If you think he wanted to hurt anyone, you're wrong. That's what _you_ would do, not—"

Nishiki's fist shoots out, clocking Hide on the nose. Blood spurts.

 _No!_ "Stop!" yells Kaneki.

"Make me," taunts Nishiki, his foot colliding with Hide's ribcage while Hide's still clutching his nose. Hide cries out as he slams into the desk chair, shoulder cracking against the wood.

"Leave him _alone!_ " Kaneki's fists clench.

"Make me," Nishiki mocks again. "You do have a violent streak after all, don't you?"

 _Hide's my best friend._ Kaneki remembers the day they met in elementary school, when Hide just walked over and asked to be friends. He said he was new and didn't have friends yet. But he could have been friends with anybody he wanted.

He just chose to be friends with Kaneki. And to follow him even to this awful place.

"Shut— _up_ ," Hide pants, pulling himself up.

Nishiki raises his fist again, and that's it. Kaneki flings himself at Nishiki, knee jamming into his stomach, clawing, shouting—

" _What the fuck?"_ screams a voice. Arms wrap around Kaneki's waist, yanking him away from a flailing Nishiki. Amon throws Kaneki back onto his bed. "Nagachika!"

"I thigk by dose is brokend," Hide mumbles, clutching his face.

"Dammit!" Amon clutches at the cross he wears around his neck, casting Kaneki with a glare. Kaneki shrinks. "I'll call Seidou to take you to the nurse's station. We already have enough trouble; I don't need you—"

"I'm sorry," Kaneki whispers.

"I heard enough of your apologies last night."

"He was just tryig to help be," Hide ekes out. "Dishigi started it."

"He still punched back," Amon retorts, jabbing his finger at Nishiki when Nishiki tries to get up. "Make one wrong move, I dare you, Nishio!"

"Do I have the honor of skipping classes today?" Nishiki wheezes.

"Don't call it an honor," snaps Amon.

 _I'm hopeless_. Kaneki sits in shock, staring at his knuckles. _I actually hit him? What happened to being hurt?_

_But he wasn't hurting me—he was hurting Hide._

_What should I have done, Mom?_

She won't answer. She's dead.

Not that she would have even if she were alive.

* * *

"That boy is so _awesome_ , Kanae!"

"Huh?" Kanae adjusts her shirt. She got dressed concealed in the shower stall before anyone else even woke up, as per usual, but the fabric's rumpled.

"Did you hear that?" breathes Shuu, pressing his ear against the wall. "He and some friends took down Mado last night! That asshole had it coming."

"Oh." Kanae frowns and runs a brush through her hair. She did hear. These boy jeans feel too loose on her again, and her chest hurts from the binder being too tight. _Whatever_. She can handle it until her scheduled bathroom break during Noro's math class.

"And now Kaneki and Nishiki are fighting," Shuu reports, pressing his fingers together. "This is—"

"Interesting," Kanae says, crawling onto Shuu's bed next to him. She presses her ear against the wall, listening. "Amon's _pissed_."

"I know, right?" Shuu grins at her, and his smile takes her breath away. She grins too, and he probably just thinks it's from excitement over the drama next door. "This school's been surprisingly tame for its reputation."

If it weren't for Shuu and his father, Kanae would have wound up here long ago. She snorts.

"He's beautiful, don't you think?" Shuu says, voice daydream-like.

"Huh?" Kanae pushes her hair back. Cold grips her stomach.

"Maybe they all are, to you," Shuu teases. "Come on, Kanae. I know you like guys. Don't pretend you're perfectly straight."

"Of course I like guys." Although Kanae's pretty sure liking guys makes her straight. Although, she's only ever liked one guy, and he's currently gushing about how beautiful one of the idiots next door is. Although if Kanae listens to her dead father, she'll be Kanae von Rosewald, a man, the heir to her dead parents' fortune and the bearer of their burden, forever.

"Ken Kaneki," Shuu breathes, clasping his hands over his face. "He's so cute. He tries to be so good, but dear God, if he's attacking security guards and—what if that steel beam incident wasn't an accident?"

Kanae wraps her arms around herself. "Wasn't that something Amon wondered about?"

"Exactly!" Shuu thrusts his finger in the air.

"Doesn't that make him dangerous?" Kanae presses. _And are you actually suggesting he planned it? That'd be idiocy and is way above his intelligence level._

"It makes him sexy," Shuu muses, rubbing his chin. "Kanae, I think I'm smitten. Imagine what he'd be like in bed."

He might as well have stabbed her through the stomach. Kanae can't speak. _You can't._

 _That pathetic—he isn't anything special! He's not_ that _awesome!_

"Can you imagine?" Shuu buttons his violet shirt up, and Kanae's eyes linger on the sliver of chest before it's covered.

"No," Kanae says honestly.

He scowls.

"Kidding." She'd rather jump off a building than Shuu end up with that mediocre, spineless brat. Who may or may not have tried to murder the head of security. _For God's sake, aren't there smarter ways to avoid getting caught?_

Shuu laughs and ruffles her hair. "I'll talk to him after today's over."

 _Dammit_. Kanae stumbles from his bed to her own, where she stuffs her books into her bag. The velour, rhinestone encrusted throw pillow in the shape of a rose that Shuu bought her for her last birthday sits there. All Kanae wants to do is bury her face in it and cry.

She can't. She's a he. And she has to face today. Earn decent grades. Make her dead parents proud.

"Do you think the little kid who took out Marude's ear bone will be in class today?" wonders Shuu.

"No idea." Kanae doesn't care. Her fingers shake.

"Let's go," Shuu declares, slinging his arm around her shoulders, and _dammit, dammit, dammit_ , it's torture. Kanae wants to throw her head back and scream. _I love you!_

She lowers her head and ducks out the door. The day passes in a blur, her chest aching and her notebooks empty.

" _You're the only one left, Karren."_

 _I'll honor you all,_ she vowed. _Karren. Nathanael. Arunolt. Emma. Knae._ Her pencil taps out the rhythm of their names against her textbook.

"You okay?" Chie, a student from north campus who hangs around them, asks in chemistry. She sneaks her camera up to take a picture of a bird fluttering in the air outside the window.

"I'm _fine_ ," snaps Kanae.

Shuu peers at her, frowning. The three of them are lab partners, but today they just have a boring lecture. Although, it could be fascinating for all Kanae hears of it.

"I heard they're searching our rooms," Chie reports during lunch. "The rooms of all the girls on campus. Looking for a blue skirt."

"So then what, are they going to arrest every girl with a blue skirt?" snorts Kanae.

"No, apparently they have a good idea of what it looks like." Chie stirs her yogurt. Akira sits at a table alone, apparently snapping at Amon when he goes over there, because he hurries away with a stricken look.

Kanae watches as the girl from Dorm Block 20—Touka—dumps a plastic bag into the trashcan along with her lunch. _Nice try_.

"I wonder who did it," Chie says. "They're pretty awful, don't you think?"

"I have no sympathy for Mado," Shuu grunts, flicking his hair.

"I know who it was," Kanae says, tearing her eyes away from Touka.

"You do?" Shuu's jaw drops as he peers across the table. "How?"

"Your favorite habit," Kanae says, a smile playing with her lips. "Eavesdropping."

Realization dawns on Shuu's face. "You heard Kaneki talking about it this morning? And you didn't tell me? I'm wounded, Kanae. Our friendship is whittling away." He buries his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry," Kanae stammers. "It was—when you were in the shower—" And she only heard the beginning of it.

He lifts his face and winks at her. Light sparks.

"Wow," Chie says.

"But like you said," Kanae continues, sipping her water. "Why would I want to help someone like Mado, whom I hate?"

"Let's talk about Shuu's beloved instead," Chie interrupts. "This _dangerous fiend,_ Kaneki."

"Should I just kiss him?" Shuu wonders.

"You should ask him to coffee first," chirps Chie.

 _I knew I didn't like you, Chie_ , Kanae thinks, biting into a sandwich that sticks like sawdust in her mouth. "He's not looking to date him. He's looking to bang him."

"But he's dorm-grounded for sure," Shuu muses. "And if he's good, Kanae, I could do it more than once."

"Make him coffee, then. Don't you have a maker in your room? Even though it's not allowed?" Chie grins.

"We'll have you over for Bailey's sometime," Shuu promises.

 _I need a drink_. _Not sometime. Like right now_. Kanae fights to keep her scowl off her face.

_Why don't you love me?_

She wasn't enough for her father or her family, not as Karren. And even as Kanae, she isn't enough for Shuu Tsukiyama, the boy who gave her a reason to keep living and _gives_ her one, every day.

* * *

The smell of coffee turns her stomach, but Kanae dutifully pulls out some sugar cubes and drops them in.

"He's definitely in there?" Shuu asks.

Kanae nods. She heard crying when they first came back from school. And: "Chie says she saw Amon, Shinohara, and Nishiki in the main office. And Hide's got basketball."

"Perfect." Shuu grabs the coffee cup. "Will I need you to wish me luck?"

"No," Kanae says, her tone harder than normal. "You have all the luck you need," she adds.

"Well." He winks and ducks out of the room. Kanae can't decide whether to press her ear against the wall and listen to the sound of her dreams dissolving, or cry into her rose pillow. She chooses the latter.

* * *

When Kaneki opens the door, Tsukiyama's wearing his most charming smile.

"Um, hi," Kaneki stammers. "Can I help you?"

 _He's so shy._ _It's adorable._ Tsukiyama holds out the coffee cup. "I thought you might like some coffee."

"Oh." Kaneki blinks. "Thank you."

"What happened last night?" Tsukiyama asks, sauntering into the room. Posters of sports teams cover the walls near the bunk bed, though he's guessing they're all Hide's. A crooked pile of books leans against the bottom bunk.

"I don't know," Kaneki says, swallowing hard.

"Kanae says he knows who it was," Shuu says.

"What?" Kaneki jumps. "No one wanted to hurt—"

"Don't worry," Tsukiyama assures him, waving his hand as he takes a seat in Kaneki's desk chair. "Kanae won't tell anyone. I promise. He's trustworthy. He didn't even tell _me_." _Yet_.

Kaneki sips the coffee, but his face still looks gray.

"Are you suspended?" Tsukiyama asks, leaning back in his chair. "I'm surprised the dean didn't have your fingernails pulled out one at a time to find out who it really was."

"Arima? I didn't see him," Kaneki admits, taking a seat on the bed. He drinks more of the coffee.

"I presume Marude had other priorities. Like getting his ear fixed." Tsukiyama smirks. What he would have given to be a fly on the wall when Juuzou went nuts.

Kaneki cringes. "I'm dorm-grounded for the next month. Unless I give a name."

"A name?" Tsukiyama asks, leaning forward. "So it _was_ just one person." He wiggles his eyebrows. "So tell me, Ken Kaneki, what _were_ you doing out so late?"

Kaneki shakes his head. "Helping someone."

Tsukiyama laughs. "Sure, if that's what you want to call it."

"What?" Kaneki's eyes bulge. "Wait—no! You can't think—"

Tsukiyama still chortles. "I'm teasing you, Kaneki."

"Oh." Kaneki finishes the coffee, his face bright red.

 _Definitely a virgin,_ Tsukiyama thinks. _Kaneki, you're tempting me._

Though Kaneki seems genuinely sweet. That should make him more fun to play with. "I see you like Takatsuki's books."

Kaneki nods. "Have you read any of them?"

"My father's a friend of hers." Tsukiyama grins. "But he hasn't let me meet her yet. Someday, he says. Maybe next time Dad sees her I can ask again, and ask if you can come along."

"Really?" Kaneki's jaw drops. "What's she like?"

"Dad says she's 'quirky,'" Tsukiyama says, drawing air quotes.

"I can't put her books down," Kaneki admits. He rises to drops the coffee cup in the trash bin next to the desk, and Tsukiyama's arm catches his elbow. Kaneki freezes.

Tsukiyama jolts to his feet, pressing his lips against Kaneki's chapped ones. Hands slam into Tsukiyama's chest. Tsukiyama stumbles back.

"What are you doing?" Kaneki cries out. He looks—mad. His face flushes, and his eyes narrow.

 _Oh no_. Tsukiyama's heart picks up pace. _Did I just—did he not want—_

"Please leave," Kaneki says.

Tsukiyama nods and gets to his feet. His body feels numb. Only his heart burns, and stings— _why? You don't like me?_

_Why am I not good enough?_

"Shuu?" Kanae takes his earbuds out the moment Tsukiyama walks in their room, humiliation crawling inside him like a centipede. "You're back—early. How did it go?"

Tsukiyama shakes his head and drops onto his bed, burying his face in his hands. _"He doesn't like me."_

"What?"

"What's wrong with me?" He's never been rejected before. Ever. Tears bead in his eyes. _What is this? Why am I crying?_

" _Nothing's_ wrong with you," Kanae declares, sitting next to him. "Shuu. You're _fine_. Just as you are."

 _Am I?_ Tsukiyama remembers the principal of his old school railing at him and Kanae for skipping again, although to Tsukiyama, it didn't matter. He got all A's anyways, so what did it matter if he missed classes when they'd just bore him?

" _You'll never amount to anything!" snarled that principal, and Kanae punched him, blood spurted, and then they were both expelled._

"Look," Kanae says, elbow brushing Tsukiyama's. "He's got a lot on his plate right now. You probably just—shocked him. Maybe he's never even been kissed before. He might just be worried about the thing with Mado, and that stupid fight with Nishiki."

"Really?" Tsukiyama peers at Kanae. Purple hair falls over the other boy's eyes.

Kanae nods. "I mean, if I was going through all that, romance might not be—a priority." He frowns. "Or maybe it would be."

In spite of himself, Tsukiyama laughs. "If you found the right person?"

Kanae doesn't smile. "Exactly."

"I wish we could help," Tsukiyama says. "Nishiki's just a bully—he just wants to make Kaneki and Hide's lives miserable because his is terrible. No other reason."

"Well, then," Kanae says, cocking his head. "Why don't we come up with a way to get him to back off?"

"How could we do that? He won't respond to threats."

A smile plays with Kanae's lips. "I know where the—person Kaneki was with—dumped their blue skirt."

"Nishiki—" Tsukiyama remembers the girl from the first floor. The RA's roommate, and the condoms not so well hidden in the bathroom trash. "Oh." _Framing her would shift focus from Kaneki's friend, and take care of Nishiki too._ His pulse quickens. "That could work."

Kanae grins.

"I love how your mind works," Tsukiyama adds with a smirk, tapping Kanae on the forehead. Kanae laughs, and then his brow creases and his lips curl. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Of course." Kanae scrambles to his feet. "I'll see that it's done. Don't—worry about anything, Shuu. I promise, I'll take care of it."

Tsukiyama blinks at the vehemence in Kanae's voice. "I know you will." _You're my best friend_. In truth, Kanae's the only person Tsukiyama's comfortable calling a friend.


	9. Who You Want to Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Enjoy Touken and Nishikimi vs. Tsukikana.

"You're not gonna believe what happened," Kimi tells Nishiki as she links hands with him. They stroll towards the cafeteria. Leaves fall from the branches, drifting by their heads.

"What?" he questions, watching her eyes soften with concern when she takes in the bruise on his cheekbone yet again. Kaneki packs a better punch than Nishiki assumed. "Don't worry about me."

"But I do. Worry about you," Kimi responds.

"I'm not suspended. Just dorm-grounded for the weekend."

"Which may have unexpected good timing," Kimi quips, skipping over a loose cobblestone. "Seeing as we're out of condoms. I'll get more Saturday."

Nishiki wrinkles his nose. "How will I survive?"

Kimi plants a kiss on his mouth. "I don't want to know."

He shoves her, snickering.

"But anyways," Kimi says, turning around so that she's facing him as she walks backwards. "I found Kanae in my room. He claimed he was looking for Akira, but I doubt it, because he would have had to have a pass from Amon, and he was definitely not carrying one."

"Kanae?" Nishiki doesn't know his floormate very well, except that he seems to mimic Tsukiyama's over-the-top personality in some ways, while refusing to engage in chitchat like Tsukiyama does. "Maybe he's a cross-dresser."

"Really?"

Nishiki shrugs. "I've wondered."

"He is pretty feminine in some ways," Kimi agrees. "But he didn't leave with anything."

"You probably intervened before he could look through your underwear drawer," Nishiki teases.

"If he wants to borrow something, he could just ask," Kimi muses. "I'd be happy to help. There are lots of things I don't want anymore."

"If he picked the RA's room, he's clearly stupid as fuck."

Kimi shakes her head. "Kanae got an A- on Tatara's last chemistry exam."

"Never mind." Nishiki was told he did quite well, and he got an 83. He can't remember the last time he scored so low. "German bastard."

"Well," Kimi says. "I just nodded and he ran out of there as fast as he could go. I didn't see the point in challenging him. He seems so lonely. Tsukiyama at least wants to make other friends."

 _He was just potentially going through your things and your first thought is 'poor Kanae, he must be lonely?'_ Nishiki shakes his head.

"What?"

 _You definitely wouldn't like how I treated Kaneki and Hide this morning_. Something sticky curdles in Nishiki's stomach. "Never mind."

"You look upset."

"I just—I—wasn't—I may have started the fight today," Nishiki admits, curling his fists.

Kimi blinks.

"I provoked Kaneki," Nishiki confesses.

"Well," Kimi says. "That's awful. But you were angry, weren't you? You just need a better way to cope with it."

"You're not mad at me?"

She shakes her head. "I think if I'd had your life circumstances—I can't say I'd be any different."

 _You know so much_. The small scar on his thigh, the last promise his sister made him. _I told you all of it_. And she hasn't tried to weaponize it against him, use it as a restraint to guilt him, unlike every counselor he's known.

Nishiki steps forward, wrapping his arms around her and dropping his head to her shoulder. She folds him in her arms.

"Nishiki," interrupts a voice, and both Kimi and Nishiki jump.

Kaneki stands there with Touka Kirishima, her fists clenched. "What?" he snaps.

"We have to talk," Kaneki says.

"If you're looking to fight—" Kimi starts.

"Oh, shut up," Touka snaps.

"Don't tell Kimi to—"

"Shut up, too!" Touka wrings her hands. The sun sinks behind the evergreen trees rising behind them. A flock of crows caw overhead. "We're trying to _help_ you."

"Excuse me?" Fury builds inside Nishiki. _If this is some kind of—_

"They're searching our rooms while we're at dinner," Touka blurts out, her chest heaving. "And they're going to find the blue skirt in your room, Kimi."

"What?" yelps Nishiki. Fear stabs through him. Kimi turns whiter than milk. _You didn't—she didn't_ —"You ass—"

"I saw Kanae taking it out of the trash," Touka says, and it slams into Nishiki. _It's you._

_You pushed Mado down those stairs._

"I'll turn you in," Nishiki vows. "You—"

"Kanae's the one framing your girlfriend, not me!" Touka hisses. She lowers her voice as that junior squad—Urie, Mutsuki, Saiko, and Shirazu—pass by, peering with curiosity. Probably at Kaneki more than at anyone else.

"She didn't have to warn us," Kimi whispers.

 _I'm going to kill him._ "Why would Kanae—"

"It's my fault," Kaneki says. "I think—Tsukiyama hit on me earlier today, and I said I wasn't—"

"Wait, what?" If the situation weren't so dire, Nishiki would have laughed. If only he'd been there to see Tsukiyama luring Kaneki into his twisted web.

"He has an obsessive personality," Touka says. "He may be new this year, but I know him. His father's a friend of Yoshimura's. He'll—"

"I'm not letting them blame Kimi for this," Nishiki breathes. He jabs his finger at Touka. "You have to confess. You—"

"It was an accident," Kaneki cuts in. Touka lowers her head.

"It has to have been," Kimi agrees.

"Huh?" Touka's head snaps back up. She gapes at Kimi.

"You're being so kind," Kimi says. "You came and warned us. That's brave."

A strange look washes over Touka's face. She sucks in her breath. Nishiki can't even speak.

"We should hurry," Kaneki urges. "Get rid of it again, where Kanae won't find it."

"Right," Kimi says, pulling Nishiki along the path with her. Nishiki breaks into a run, sweat pricking his forehead. He can't let them arrest Kimi. That'll compromise her future, and he won't let that happen. She wants to be a scientist. A research scientist. She's brilliant, and kind, and _brave_ , like Touka said.

_I love her._

He looks down at her as they spring, breath scraping his throat. _I love you._

_You're everything I want to be._

Kimi skids to a halt at the top of the stairs. "They're here."

"What?" Touka demands.

"They're _here_." Fear gleams in Kimi's eyes.

"On the top floor, because all the other floors don't have lights on," Kaneki says, stepping forward. "Kimi, you're really sick."

"I am?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah," Kaneki says. "And Touka, you're helping her—and Nishiki, you're with them because—well, Kimi. And I'll be outside. Get the skirt from Kimi's room. I'll wait out in the garden. Pass it to me through the window. If they catch me, they catch me."

"Why are they even searching guys' rooms?" Kimi wonders.

"Clearly you're new," Nishiki grumbles. "They love an excuse to look for anything contraband." _So I guess I should be thanking you for your anti-pot stance._

"Let's go," Kaneki says, his voice steely and determined.

_Maybe you're not a coward after all._

Actually, if anyone's a coward, Nishiki's quite certain it's himself. He would never have tried to help someone who treated him the way he treated Kaneki. Especially when it puts someone he cares about at serious risk.

Kimi doubles over, jamming her fingers down her throat. Nishiki cringes as she retches.

"Grab her hair, Nishio," snaps Touka, grasping Kimi's shoulders as vomit splatters the stone walkway. Some of it drips onto Kimi's leggings. He slings her arm over his shoulders, and they stagger towards the dorm.

Kaneki slips off into the garden. The flowers are dying, Nishiki notices, turning brown as the weather grows colder. Several of them lie on the dirt, decaying.

"What are you doing here?" Shinohara greets them as they burst through the door.

"I'm sick," ekes out Kimi, tears streaming down her face.

Shinohara takes one look at her puke-stained clothes. "Get her inside her room, Touka. I'll call Akira. Nishiki, you should head back to dinner, or to your room."

"I'm not hungry," Nishiki says.

"Fair enough," Shinohara agrees. Nishiki sprints up the stairs, his heart pounding in his throat. _Please work. Please work._

The police and Furuta leave the top floor just as he arrives, only nodding at him as they head to the junior boy's floor. Well, the junior boys and Seidou.

His phone buzzes within a few minutes. _Got it._ From Kaneki.

Nishiki slides to the floor in relief. He texts Kimi a dozen hearts. He needs to tell her he loves her, but via text or phone is cheap, and Nishiki refuses to take the cheap way out when it comes to Kimi.

 _I'll tell her in the library nook,_ Nishiki decides. _After this weekend_. It boils up inside him, and he has to bite his tongue. _I_ love _her_.

When Kaneki bursts through the door, a small bulge under his sweatshirt, Nishiki could almost hug him. " _Thank_ you."

A smile breaks over Kaneki's face.

 _What would Kimi want me to do?_ Nishiki swallows. _Who do I want to be?_

_I want to have a quarter of the decency Kimi has._

He clears his throat. "And, um, I'm sorry about earlier. I was an asshole."

"I forgive you," Kaneki says, and just in case Nishiki doesn't believe him, holds out his hand.

 _I thought my life was over at this school, at least until college,_ Nishiki thinks as he grips Kaneki's hand. He thinks of his sister. _You'd like Kimi. And Kaneki. Eventually. Hell, maybe even Touka._

By the time their neighbors announce their return with blasting music, both Kaneki and Nishiki are ready. Nishiki sweeps his arm, inviting Kaneki to knock, because he doesn't trust himself not to punch the door down.

"Kaneki!" Tsukiyama bounds to his feet. Kanae clutches a rose throw pillow. _Weird_.

"We know what you tried to do," Nishiki bursts out. _Goddammit_.

"What?" Tsukiyama asks, blinking.

Kaneki crosses his arms. "To Kimi."

"It was me," Kanae interjects, setting aside his phone and pillow.

"No," Nishiki snarls. "It was _you_ , Shuu Tsukiyama."

"Listen," snarls Kanae, leaping to his feet and stepping so close Nishiki can smell the garlic on his breath. "You say one word, and I'll tell everyone about your girlfriend, K—"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Kaneki objects.

"It was just a bit of fun," Tsukiyama says, rolling his eyes. But Nishiki can see the disappointment on his face. _Did you think that this would get you closer to Kaneki? Hurting me?_

 _If I were Kaneki, it might have,_ Nishiki realizes.

 _No_. Not as who he's going to be. Whom he's already on his way to becoming. He looks at Kaneki. "Let's leave these losers."

"Agreed," Kaneki says, turning to walk away.

Tsukiyama gapes after them, and Kanae's face swells to roughly the same color as his roommate's hair. Nishiki ignores them. _Bet that's never happened before, Tsukiyama._

Kimi will be proud. The moment their door closes behind them, Nishiki holds his hand up for a high-five.

Kaneki snorts, but he complies. The door flings open, and Hide's face melts, jaw scraping the floor and eyes enormous.

"What the hell did I miss?"

* * *

"Yoshimura wants to talk to us," Touka reports the next morning at breakfast. Kaneki looks up from his bowl of cornflakes. _He knows._ The look on her face—shame suffocates her.

"Hide, I have to talk to Touka for a moment," Kaneki blurts out as Hide approaches, plate loaded with bacon, eggs, and sausages. "I'll be back."

Hide shrugs. "Fine, but your cornflakes will get soggy."

"That's okay." Kaneki jogs after Touka, who strides across the cafeteria, back towards the buffet line. Nishiki and Kimi both mouth _good luck_ at them.

"Through there," Koma directs, nodding to the swinging doors. Touka gulps and pushes through.

Uta stands there, chatting with Yoshimura and—Yomo. The moment they catch sight of Touka and Kaneki, they go quiet.

"Catch you later," Uta says, nodding at the students as he leaves. Irimi lugs a pot of coffee back out.

"He was just confirming a particular detail," says Yomo, crossing his arms. "About a blue skirt you wore that day."

 _Goddamn._ Tears sting Touka's eyes. Her uncle's tone of disappointment— _would Mom be disappointed in me, if she was alive?_

_If she were alive, I wouldn't be here._

"It wasn't her fault," Kaneki interjects. "She didn't mean to."

"She still did it," Yoshimura says. Yomo sighs.

"Are you going to Principal Washuu?" Kaneki ventures.

"Please explain, Touka," Yoshimura says. "Tell us why you did this."

The words stick in her throat. "I was just—trying to get a bird—"

"Irimi told me about the bird," Yoshimura interrupts, voice stern but kind. Like always.

When she and Ayato first showed up at his place, with no place else to go, he took care of them. He said he could get Touka into the local public school if she wanted, or the school that he worked for—Re Academy. And then Ayato ran away, and the police caught him and he ran away again, and again, and then he was assigned to Re Academy and Touka went, too. Every single time the cops returned Ayato, he'd be raging, screaming about how Yoshimura wasn't his father and a friendship with a useless uncle didn't count either, and every time Yoshimura just made him coffee, waited for him to calm down. Even the time Ayato smashed his antique china set.

She wants to make him proud, but she doesn't know how. She thought by helping Hinami, but—she grinds her heel into the tiled floor. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

"It was an accident—he reached for me, and I panicked." She remembers the times she and Ayato were chased through the streets after Dad disappeared. They had to fight, punch and kick and claw and bite their way to another day.

Yoshimura sighs.

"Don't turn her in, please," Kaneki requests, rubbing his chin. "I'm more than happy to take the blame."

"I won't turn you in, Touka," says Yoshimura. "But I wish you would turn yourself in."

 _What?_ "That's not going to happen," Touka lashes out.

"I know." He sighs and grabs a pin to roll out dough. "You have your reasons."

Touka glares at the ground. She can feel Kaneki watching her, and she doesn't like it.

"What's that?" Kaneki asks.

"What I'm making?"

"A pastry, dummy," Touka says.

"Touka." Yoshimura rolls his eyes. "I figured lots of students will be hurting today, after the dorm search. It'll be good to make danishes to sell as a treat."

"What kind?" Kaneki asks. "Hide likes cheese ones."

Yoshimura smiles at him. "All kinds. At least ten different ones."

"What?" Kaneki's eyes pop. "That'll—take a lot of work."

"And you haven't even seen how much effort he puts into decorating them," Touka puts in.

"I find that food tends to be better based on the amount of care you put into it," Yoshimura responds. "Just like people."

"We're all rotten cabbage here," Touka returns. "And everyone knows it."

Kaneki frowns.

"I don't think so," Yoshimura counters, and Touka can't take it anymore. She heads for the swinging doors, and no adult stops her.

"Touka!"

 _Dammit._ "Can't you leave well enough alone?"

Kaneki draws back. "I just—wanted to say—"

"Go ahead and tell Amon," Touka counters. "You might as well." Other students mill around, but none close enough to hear.

He shakes his head. "I was thinking—and—I don't think what you did was right, but you know that, don't you? And I know—I remember—being that afraid."

 _With Rize?_ Touka arches an eyebrow.

"And so I don't blame you for how you reacted." Kaneki folds his hands. "I want to help you out, Touka. I want to cover for you."

 _Why_?

 _Just because you understand_?

 _Is that what living in books has done to your head? Let you see from others' eyes?_ Except she's not a character, and who knows if her story will be anything other than a tragedy.

"Well?" He waits. Hide waves from across the cafeteria.

She doesn't know what to say, so she just nods.

* * *

"There," Kaneki announces, dropping the comb down on one of the armchairs. "Your hair's all done, Hinami!"

"It doesn't look bad," Touka allows.

Hinami springs over to the large mirror sitting over one of the sofas. "Oh, I like it!" She grips the ends. "Thank you, Kaneki."

"No problem." He kneels to wrap the fallen pieces of hair in the newspapers he and Touka spread out.

"Let me help you." Touka leaps up. Hinami suspects Touka asked Kaneki to volunteer to cut her hair because she found Hinami sobbing last night. The incident with Kureo Mado—seeing him lying there, seeing the blood—it brought it all back, and Hinami's chest burned until it felt rubbed raw with how much she misses her parents.

_Come back._

_Why didn't you let me die with you?_

Cutting her hair is something Mom used to do, and Touka knows it.

The door opens, and Akira and Amon enter from Shinohara's apartment, Akira's eyes red. Hinami straightens as Amon glowers at Kaneki.

"How is your father, Akira?" Hinami ventures, gripping her hands together. What if she looks too suspicious?

"He was awake," Akira answers as she walks past. She wipes her eyes and says nothing else.

"We will find who it was," Amon assures her.

"Bullshit," Akira snaps. Hinami jumps. She never expected their RA to say a word like that, especially in front of students. "If we were going to, we would have already found them. They're probably laughing at me in a class we share."

Touka busies herself with cleaning the hair up. Kaneki's hand brushes Touka's shoulder.

"I am very sorry, Akira," Kaneki says, voice wobbling.

"Forget it. You're just a coward." Akira stalks into her room. Amon shrugs as if to say _she's not wrong._

But she is wrong. And yet Hinami can't blame Akira. She thinks of her mother, cut down like she didn't matter, like her story was worthless—like anything she could have said wouldn't matter, like she was condemned for no reason other than life itself gave her little options—they may have been criminals, or so the police insist, but either way they _loved_ Hinami, both Mom and Dad, and she loved—loves—them and she can't even admit it, not to Furuta, because he seems to want to hear that she's angry with her parents and yet doesn't seem to quite believe her when she says she is. Hinami's tired of trying to lie. Next time she might just explode at him and scream, _yes, yes, I love them! Maybe if the investigators had just tried to talk to them, they would have loved them too!_

Hinami slips outside to Shinohara's garden. When she moved in, he told her he read that she liked flowers, and that she could tend it any time she wants. Of course, the flowers are all dying now.

 _Maybe I can bring some of them back._ Hinami crouches in the dirt. Damp, it stains her tights. She doesn't care.

"Hello."

Hinami jumps, peering up to see Shuu Tsukiyama. Kaneki said Tsukiyama tried to force him to kiss him yesterday. And frame Kimi. Her pulse hammers in her throat.

"Don't look so alarmed," Tsukiyama drawls, flinging his hands out. "The roses are still in bloom." He plucks one from behind his ear. "Kanae likes them."

"Oh." Hinami blinks.

"Want to see?" Tsukiyama invites, leading her around the corner of the building. A rosebush sits against the concrete wall. Red blossoms rise out of the thorns. "The color of love."

Hinami chortles. "There are some weeds down below." She crouches, reaches to yank them out.

"Whoa!" Tsukiyama kneels next to her. "You like gardening?"

Hinami nods. "My mother liked it."

"Ah." Tsukiyama presses the rose against his lips. Hinami wants to warn him to be careful of the thorns, but one pricks his lip and he doesn't seem bothered. "I heard about what happened to them. From the news. I'm so sorry."

Hinami nods, a lump in her throat.

"My father has a huge garden on our estate," Tsukiyama continues. "Lots of roses, marigolds, carnations, everything. You should visit sometime."

Hinami studies him. He seems sincere. "I'd like that, Flower Man."

Tsukiyama throws his head back and howls with laughter. "Is that my new nickname?"

"Yup." Hinami grins and yanks out another weed.

" _Motherfucker!"_ shouts a strange voice.

"Be careful or Seidou will chase you down with soap and wash out that filthy mouth," Tsukiyama taunts.

Hinami peers around the corner to see Ayato Kirishima pacing, holding his phone in the air as if he's going to hurl it against the wall. He halts when he sees the two of them. "Are you eavesdropping?"

"No," Hinami says. "We're gardening. You're just being loud."

Ayato's eyes narrow and his lips pucker. Hinami can't stop a chortle from escaping. His fury fades, mouth wobbling. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because your angry face is exactly the same as your sister's," Hinami returns.

"Can confirm," Tsukiyama adds.

Ayato scowls. "Shut up, Tsukiyama."

"Good thing you didn't tell Miss Fueguchi to shut up," Tsukiyama says, straightening to his full height. "I'm quite sure then you'd be able to experience your sister's angry face yourself. Not that I doubt you haven't. And let me tell you, I've seen her angry. It's impressive."

"When?" Hinami asks.

"Years ago," Tsukiyama says. "When the two of you were staying with Yoshimura, Ayato. He's an old friend of my father's."

Ayato bristles. "He's an old idiot."

"He's keeping her secret, so he's smarter than you think," Tsukiyama mutters to Hinami.

_He is?_

"Whatever." Ayato turns to march off.

"Are you okay?" Hinami calls after him.

Ayato looks over his shoulder, eyes dark and brooding. "What do you care?"

And then he's gone before she can say she does.

"What _do_ you care, Hinami?" questions Tsukiyama, leaning against the side of the building for a moment before jerking away. "Dirt."

 _You were just kneeling in it. Whatever._ Maybe his shirt's more expensive than his skinny jeans. "I think people should try to understand each other," Hinami says.

"You think, or Kaneki thinks?" Tsukiyama strokes his chin.

"I don't know," Hinami answers, reaching out and plucking the petals off a dying rose, one at a time. Browning, melting red drifts down to her shoes. _Maybe if they'd reached out—if there was someone willing to talk to them—they were trying to protect me—they were just doing the best they could._

 _Aren't we all?_ And what if it's not enough? For her? For Kaneki, Tsukiyama, Touka, Ayato?

 _I miss them_. Tears sting her eyes. A thorn scrapes her thumb. She sticks it in her mouth. _And I don't know what to do about it._


	10. Without a Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I do want to warn that this chapter contains a (very) brief flashback with child abuse.

_I'm a man, no worse than any man_

_"The First Attack," Les Misérables_

* * *

Kaneki slips into drama, sitting next to Touka. She hunches her shoulders, chin high and pulse throbbing in her neck as if she's trying desperately to pretend she hasn't done anything wrong.

He gives her a small smile. Her eyes narrow. The auditorium stretches wide, red velvet curtains hanging over the stage that a kindly donor must have paid for years ago. The seats are a matching shade of red, plush and comfortable. It could easily sit hundreds of people.

"I heard today's the day we'll find out what play we're doing," announces Shirazu as he saunters over to them. Kaneki smiles. Saiko bounces as she heads over. Mutsuki slips into the seat behind Kaneki, gaze perpetually lowered. Urie scowls as he sits next to Mutsuki.

"Dorm Blocks 6 and 2 are doing _The Lion King_ ," reports Saiko. "And Itori's got them doing some sort of joint art project with Uta. And Dorm Blocks 16 and 9 are doing _Fiddler on the Roof_ , and working with Houji on some sort of history tie-in. So I'm guessing we're gonna have a lot of tie-in work to do too." She drops her head onto the back of Touka's chair, moaning.

"Not everyone can sing," complains Urie.

"Most of us aren't bad," opines Shirazu. "And they'll need some people for props and such."

"Why do they think forcing us to do drama is a good idea? Shouldn't it be an elective?" whines Aura as he appears.

"I think it'll be fun," sings Hide, slapping Kaneki's shoulder. "And we'll have the rest of the year to practice."

"I think they do this because they want us to bond," says Hsiao, rolling her eyes. "But according to what I've seen, people usually wind up chewing each other apart."

Kaneki's stomach feels cold. Touka cringes but doesn't contradict Hsiao.

 _At least we won't be doing another play interpretation like with Faustus,_ Kaneki thinks. Those have been torture.

"Good afternoon!" booms Itori, walking onto the stage. The din dies down. "So you're all eager to hear, I'm sure." She draws in her breath.

"Is she expecting a drumroll?" mutters Saiko.

Whether she expected one or not, Itori plunges ahead. "And I'm pleased to announce we'll be performing _Les Misérables."_

No one says anything.

"Eto has agreed to study the novel with you in your literature class later in the semester," Itori adds.

Hide winks at Kaneki, and he smiles. _This won't be so bad._ He's never read it, but if it's supposed to tie in with their literature class—

"So are all our classes from here on out going to be spent rehearsing?" questions Kimi, her hand in the air.

"The vast majority of them." Itori beams, tossing her long red waves over her shoulder. "And I'm going to see this year if Matsuri Washuu will let us invite the community."

"No one's gonna want to see a play put on by delinquents," mutters Touka. "They'd all be clutching their wallets expecting us to steal them."

Kaneki gulps. _She's not wrong._

But the smile on Itori's face gives him hope. _Maybe if they could come—could see—_

Itori holds up several sheets of paper. "I'll be handing out scripts, but first—Hinami, dear, come help me past these out—here is the cast list. If you don't see your name, assume you've been assigned to prop making. And, in assigning parts, I kept in mind a variety of attributes, including singing and performance ability, but also including your personal character."

"I'm uncomfortable," Hide whispers.

"Which isn't to say I think you're like your characters in any respect," Itori adds with a giggle as Hinami takes the papers, handing them out along the rows. "There are only a few solo parts, but several of you have two, three, or four ensemble roles, so if you see your name with a number next to it, assume that is the number of singing roles you have and look for the other places your name appears on the list."

Kaneki swallows and rubs his chin. _I have to be one of the prop-makers, right?_

 _Or the ensemble_.

Hide gets the stack first and his jaw drops.

"Hide, pass them!" snaps Touka, clearly as agitated as Kaneki.

He hands them out. Kaneki takes it and his eyes bug out.

 _That's_ my _name._

Single Roles:

 **Jean Valjean:** Ken Kaneki  
**Javert:** Koutarou Amon  
**Fantine:** Akira Mado  
**Thénardier:** Shuu Tsukiyama  
**Madame Thénardier:** Kimi Nishino  
**Éponine** **:** Touka Kirishima  
**Cosette:** Hinami Fueguchi  
**Marius Pontmercy:** Tooru Mutsuki  
**Enjolras:** Ayato Kirishima

Ensemble Roles:  
**The Bishop of Digne ("Prologue"):** Kanae von Rosewald (4)  
**The Factory Foreman ("At the End of the Day"):** Shinsanpei Aura (3)  
**The Factory Girl ("At the End of the Day"):** Kurona Yasuhisa (4)  
**Pimp ("Lovely Ladies"):** Takeomi Kuroiwa (4)  
**Old Woman/Hair Hag ("Lovely Ladies"):** Saiko Yonebayashi (4)  
**Bamatabois ("Fantine's Arrest")** : Seidou Takizawa (4)  
**Fauchelevant ("The Cart Crash")** : Hideyoshi Nagachika (3)  
**Imposter Valjean (nonspeaking) ("Who am I?"):** Kanae von Rosewald  
**Young Cosette:** Chie Hori (2)  
**Young Éponine (nonspeaking):** Yoriko Kosaka (5)  
**Gavroche:** Juuzou Suzuya (2)  
**Grantraire:** Kuki Urie (4)  
**Courfeyrac:** Ginshi Shirazu (4)  
**Combeferre:** Miyuki Mikage (4)  
**Feuilly:** Keijin Nakarai (4)  
**Joly:** Muzurou Tamaki (4)  
**Jean Prouvaire:** Ching-Li Hsiao (3)  
**Lesgles:** Hanbee Abara (4)

_Thenardier's Thugs:_

**Brujon:** Seidou Takizawa  
**Babet:** Takeomi Kuroiwa  
**Claquesous:** Touma Higemaru (4)  
**Montparnasse:** Nishiki Nishio (4)

Other Ensemble Roles:

 **Chain Gang ("Prologue"):** Kuki Urie, Keijin Nakarai, Muzurou Tamaki, Miyuki Mikage  
**Farmer ("Prologue"):** Nishiki Nishio  
**Laborer ("Prologue"):** Hanbee Abara  
**Constables ("Prologue"):** Shinsanpei Aura **,** Touma Higemaru  
**The Poor ("At the End of the Day"):** Seidou Takizawa, Keijin Nakarai, Muzurou Tamaki, Miyuki Mikage **,** Hanbee Abara **,** Kuki Urie, Ginshi Shirazu, Chie Hori, Juuzou Suzuya, Takeomi Kuroiwa, Nishiki Nishio, Yumitsu Tomoe (3), Kuramoto Itou (3), Ikuma Momochi (3)  
**Factory Workers ("At the End of the Day"):** Yoriko Kosaka, Ching-Li Hsiao, Saiko Yonebayashi, Ayumu Hogi (4), Misato Gori (4)  
**Sailors ("Lovely Ladies"):** Hideyoshi Nagachika, Touma Higemaru, Ginshi Shirazu  
**Whores ("Lovely Ladies")** : Yoriko Kosaka, Ching-Li Hsiao, Ayumu Hogi, Kurona Yasuhisa, Misato Gori  
**Drinkers ("Master of the House")** : Kuki Urie, Ginshi Shirazu, Takeomi Kuroiwa, Touma Higemaru, Hanbee Abara, Keijin Nakarai, Muzurou Tamaki, Miyuki Mikage, Yumitsu Tomoe, Kuramoto Itou, Ikuma Momochi  
**Beggars ("Look Down"):** Seidou Takizawa, Yoriko Kosaka, Kurona Yasuhisa, Ayumi Hogi, Misato Gori, Shinsanpei Aura, Saiko Yonebayashi, Kanae von Rosewald, Hideyoshi Nagachika **,** Nishiki Nishio, Kuramoto Itou, Ikuma Momochi  
**Army Officer (offstage):** Kanae von Rosewald  
**Mourning Women ("Turning"):** Kurona Yasuhisa, Saiko Yonebayashi, Misato Gori, Ayumu Hogi, Yoriko Kosaka, Yumitsu Tomoe

"That's _you_ , Kaneki!" shrieks Saiko. "You've got the lead!"

"That is awesome," Hide tells him, and Kaneki can only shake his head. _This isn't happening._

_This can't be happening._

"Congratulations," Shirazu tells him. Kaneki peers over his shoulder to see Mutsuki wringing his shirt.

 _Who are you again?_ Kaneki checks the sheet. _Oh_. "Mutsuki."

He looks up, brows pinched and lips hovering open.

"Congratulations," Kaneki croaks. "You'll do well."

Mutsuki's eyes widen. "Th-thank you."

"You're gonna be awesome, Tooru," Shirazu declares, ruffling Mutsuki's hair. Urie even gives him a smile.

"Congratulations," Touka whispers to Kaneki.

He swallows.

"You nervous?" chirps Yoriko. "All my roles look so small. It's gonna be great."

"I don't—know." It hasn't sunk in. A flutter of excitement surges through his stomach. _Itori thinks I can do this_?

"I'm screwed," Touka says flatly. "I'll never pull this off."

Kaneki frowns. Hide cocks his head.

"Éponine's a great role, though," Yoriko says.

"Great. Then we can trade." Touka crosses her arms.

"No trading's allowed, Kirishima!" calls Itori from the stage. Touka's face reddens.

"You'll have to be in love with Mutsuki!" crows Shirazu, slapping his leg and guffawing. Mutsuki shrinks. "And you'll be in love with Hinami, Tooru—"

"Just pretend," whispers Mutsuki. Touka looks as if the idea terrifies her, and he remembers her mentioning how she wants to study hard this year, make up for the years when she slacked off, get into a good school. She can't afford a bad grade. Or what happened with Mado to follow her around.

"You can do it," Kaneki blurts out.

Touka frowns.

"I _know_ you can," he tells her, heart racing. "I'll help you. We can rehearse inside the dorm—I promise I'll help you."

"I'm sure you'll have _lots_ of rehearsals together," Hide comments, leaning his cheek against his fist. Kaneki's lungs constrict.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Touka barks.

"It's not like that!" Kaneki insists.

Hide opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Nishiki storms over. "Did you guys see that Kimi's supposed to be _married_ to _Tsukiyama?_ They'll have to rehearse together and—"

"Don't worry; I'm sure those will be traditional rehearsals," Hide says.

Nishiki's eyes bug. The curtains to the stage, deep red and velvet, sway as Itori plays with them. "Huh?"

"Itori _has_ to let that be swapped," Touka insists.

"Why?" asks Saiko.

"It's okay," says Kimi as she approaches. "I can—we can—he won't try anything else. I hope."

"I'll have a word with him," Nishiki vows, slamming his knuckles together.

"I'll go with you," Kaneki says quickly.

"Fine."

"Did you really mean it?" Touka calls as Kaneki gets to his feet. "That you'd help me?" Her hair covers one of her eyes.

He nods. "Of course."

She studies him with a frown. "I'll help you, too, then."

Her words cut through his armor. _Oh_. He nods, because he doesn't trust himself to speak. He feels uncomfortably naked.

Nishiki weaves his way out of the seats and Kaneki follows. "Hey, Tsukiyama," Nishiki hisses as they approach the stage.

"Hm?" He turns around and beams at them. Kanae scowls and heads in their direction, Chie on his heels. " _Bonjour_ , Jean Valjean and—who are you playing again?"

Nishiki's face swells. "You better listen to me. If you so much as breathe wrong in Kimi's direction, or look in her direction when you don't have to, I swear I will—"

"I have no interest in Kimi," Tsukiyama says, bored. "Calm yourself, Nishio."

A flash goes off. Kaneki jumps and sees Chie holding her camera.

"Did you get a good shot of him threatening me?" Tsukiyama croons as Itori talks to a frowning Hinami. "Good job, Mouse."

Chie grins and Kanae scowls. His eyes fix on Nishiki and Kaneki in a silent return threat. But Tsukiyama seems to have no interest in bothering them. He flashes Kaneki a toothy smile.

 _Not gonna work._ Kaneki hurries off. He glances over his shoulder to see Tsukiyama's face fall.

* * *

Mutsuki wraps his arms around himself as he heads to economics, leaves crunching under his sneakers. Kaneki's voice, his eyes, as he told Mutsuki he could do it—that set Mutsuki's chest on fire. _You care. You really meant it._

And then he remembers the smile on Kaneki's lips, his cutest smile, when he told Touka that he would help her, and the way Touka's gaze followed Kaneki when he headed off with Nishiki. Black despair seeps through Mutsuki's chest, sticky and staining.

 _Who would like me_? He shouldn't be surprised. The names his own brain spits at him strike him familiar, but he can't place from where. _My memory really is terrible._

_You're insane._

_Useless…_

A face floods Mutsuki's voice, and he stops in front of the classroom, stomach churning and windpipe paralyzed. _Daddy?_ His nostrils burn like water's shooting up them, and then he sees the blurred white porcelain of the bathtub in his childhood home, feels the water rushing into his ears but he can still hear that voice, feel the hand with its rough callouses pinching his skin, clutching the back of his neck, Mutsuki's skull too heavy—

Furuta warned him. He told him, but Mutsuki tried to push it away. _I don't remember, so what does it matter?_

_But now I remember…_

"Excuse me, Mutsuki," snaps a voice.

_I'm at school._

_Re Academy. Economics…_ He lifts his head and sees Hachikawa scowling down at him from next to the whiteboard. "Are you ill?"

Mutsuki shakes his head. If he tells, they'll send him not to Banjou, whom Mutsuki actually likes, but to Furuta. _I'm mentally ill._

_I'm insane._

"Then do you plan on entering my classroom or dawdling in the doorway for the rest of the period and getting an _absent_ instead of the _tardy_ I already marked you as?"

Tears prick Mutsuki's eyes. He scurries into the classroom, dropping down into the empty desk between Saiko and Urie. He can't look at either of them. His cheeks burn, and he hears Aura snickering.

"He's probably still in shock," Shirazu offers.

Panic jolts through Mutsuki. _How do you know?_ Shirazu's mouth opens to keep talking and Mutsuki wants to leap over Urie and shove his fist into it. _Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

"We just came from drama, and Mutsuki's playing a major role in _Les Misérables,"_ Shirazu finishes, beaming at Mutsuki as if he's proud of him. "He's Marius."

 _Oh_.

"He is?" Hachikawa's mouth curves. "That's a mistake, but then again, Itori always makes them."

Saiko gasps. Mutsuki's eyes sting, but no tears come. Shirazu flips the teacher off when he turns away, and Urie scowls. Mutsuki twists his baggy black shirt again and again. _I'm not going to be any good._

_I'm God's mistake._

* * *

"I guess your meeting with my dad is off today," Akira says stiffly after the last bell rings and students rush to gather their books and stream out of the classroom. The sun shines dull and dying through the windows lining the math room. Noro wipes problem sets from the board. The eraser squeaks.

Amon nods. "Any updates?"

She shakes her head, checking her phone again. He notices that her background is a picture of a fluffy white cat. "Is that yours?"

"Maris Stella," Akira says. "Shinohara said his wife would take care of her while Dad's in the hospital."

"What do you guys think of the play assignments?" asks Seidou, weaving his way out from the back of the classroom.

Amon winces. In truth, his first thought was… _well_. "I have to try to arrest her." He nods at Akira.

"I have to _assault_ her," Seidou admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

Akira shrugs. "I get to slap him," she says, jerking her thumb towards Seidou.

" _Get_ to?" Seidou exclaims.

Akira smirks. Seidou's jaw drops.

"Your character's interesting," Akira says to Amon.

"He's righteous," Amon says. "According to the description. Obsessed with doing what's right."

"Except he loses track of what that is," Akira says. "It's probably more accurate to say he's obsessed with following the law. I read _Les Misérables_ two summers ago. Everything he thinks is right—well, it turns out what's right's a lot more complicated than he'd like to believe. It's a good story." She bites her lip. "There's a lot to think about."

 _Maybe I'll be able to relate to Javert after all,_ Amon thinks, his cross heavy around his neck. Although what Akira's saying makes him uncomfortable. _I'm hardly perfect._

He remembers a cleaver, and blood. And the smile of a man he thought of as his father, a proud smile he still can't see any trace of a lack of sincerity in.

_Why do I still miss him?_

_Mado would be ashamed of me if he knew_. And he's lying in a hospital right now, and if Amon wanted, if Amon was anything like Mado, he would get the truth out of Kaneki. No matter what.

_Why can't I do it? Is it just because he went through so much at the beginning of the semester?_

" _What they've been through doesn't matter,"_ Amon remembers Mado telling him. _"Every man must choose his way. Or woman, her way. Your past doesn't dictate what you can choose." He leaned back in his chair, a grin drooping over his chin. "You're the perfect example of that, Amon."_

 _You'd probably like Javert, Mado._ Except Javert's the villain, isn't he? Or is it, like Akira says, more complicated?

"My father won't be thrilled to hear I'm playing a prostitute," Akira says, staring at her cat's photo again. No new texts that Amon can see. "But I like her song."

"You'll be great," Seidou assures her. "Not—I didn't mean it like—whatever."

Akira snorts. The script weighs down Amon's backpack as they head out of the classroom. When he gets to his dorm room, he pulls it out and flips through it. Itori attached a list with key information about their characters from the novel and full (non-school) edition of the musical.

_He was born inside a jail?_

They _do_ have a lot in common. _We're from terrible places_. Amon flops back. _And I'm redeeming myself._

He hears Hide warbling next door, trying to get Kaneki to sing along, and guilt scratches him.

_Will you be disappointed in me?_

He's not sure whom he's asking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter, Mutsuki and Urie discover that struggling with chemistry can lead to chemistry.


	11. Shortcut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to mercyandmagic for her lending me her chemistry knowledge. Don't try this at home please.

_If I had to pick my partners for this project, you three would not be my top choices. Not by a lot._

Urie scowls at his labmates. Mutsuki stares at the printed instructions as if he's never seen any of the diagrams before in his life. Saiko blows bubbles in her soda through a straw. Which she shouldn't even have in a lab.

"Okay, that's it," snaps Shirazu, snatching the can away.

"Hey!" Saiko glares at him.

"It's dangerous," Shirazu says. "You can't be drinking that when we're supposed to be doing synethesis."

"Shouldn't you have your hair tied up?" Saiko counters, her chin resting on her fist.

 _Shouldn't you all actually be doing something?_ Urie wants to scream.

"This looks impossible," Mutsuki remarks.

"It's making acetaminophen. It's challenging, not impossible," Urie retorts. His roommate flinches. "And if you think it's impossible, I don't see how you will pass chemistry class."

"Because we have you," Saiko chirps, offering Urie a toothy grin.

Urie grits his teeth. "Well, we have to get to work."

"We have until Tuesday," points out Shirazu. "Relax, man."

 _You relax_. Urie needs to make honor roll. He needs to get a scholarship to escape this shithole.

"Kaneki said he'd help us," Mutsuki pipes up.

"Yeah, I'll be he did," grumbles Urie. "That idiot's got a literature brain. He's useless in—"

"I hear he gets top grades," interjects Shirazu, gaze hardening.

 _Don't make me punch you._ Because that could get awkward, seeing as they share a room. And poor Mutsuki would probably be traumatized by his two roommates fighting. Urie's never met a weaker person in his life. How Mutsuki's supposed to pull off one of the major leads in the play, Urie doesn't know. It's not like he's not capable, but Mutsuki needs to get out of his stupid shell. "We don't need Kaneki. We can do this on our own."

"Whatever you say," Saiko says, her eyes glazing over. "It's Friday. TGIF, am I right?"

"Want to watch a movie tonight?" Shirazu asks. "There's this new—"

"As long as it's not bloody," Mutsuki interjects. Mutsuki's face turned as green as his hair in biology the other day during dissections, and Yomo ordered Shirazu to take Mutsuki to the nurse's.

"Sure thing, Tooru," Shirazu agrees.

" _Guys_ ," Urie growls. "Can we please try to—"

"Of course!" Saiko snorts as she straightens and shuffles her papers. "Right on. Reading now."

Urie can't take this. _Looks like I'm going to wind up doing this all by myself. Again_.

The bell rings, and they've made next to no progress. Urie slaps his forehead, but no one even looks up. "We really need to work on this tomorrow, guys. It's due Tuesday, and if we don't—"

"I'm not giving up my weekend," Saiko protests, scandalized. Mutsuki hugs his books to his chest.

"I already have a pass to visit my sister tomorrow," Shirazu objects.

Urie rolls his eyes. "Well, how long will that take?"

"All day," Shirazu says. "She has cancer, okay? And our mom dumped us because she didn't want to watch Haru die. That's why I'm here."

 _Oops_. Urie's face burns. He feels as if he could melt like a candle in an oven. "Of course. I'm—sorry to hear that."

"Oh, Shirazu," whispers Saiko. "That's awful."

"I'm sorry," Mutsuki echoes. "Could we make cards for Haru? Would that cheer her up?"

Urie frowns.

Shirazu's eyes light up. "It might, actually. I've told her about you all on the phone; I'm sure she'd like to—"

"We'll do it, then," Saiko decides. "Tonight. While we're watching the movie."

"If we do it in the lounge, Juuzou's going to want to join," Urie points out.

"I'm okay with that," Shirazu says. "Maybe Kaneki and Hide will join, too. And Touka and Hinami."

Urie nods. "O-okay." So now he'll be forced to watch a brainless movie with people he doesn't even like, knowing his scholarship is whittling away upstairs in his unopened textbook. But the cards—he _should_ make one.

Mutsuki heads to his locker, head down. Urie sighs. He has to meet with that stupid counselor today. Which is pointless, because he's not like the other kids here. He doesn't need help. The one good part about meeting with Furuta is that the principal, Matsuri Washuu, seemed to recognize Urie last time and asked him what his favorite subjects were. Maybe if he can impress him, he'll write Urie a recommendation next year. Coming from the principal, no schools will assume it's a pity letter. He hopes.

"Hello, Urie," says Washuu as he leaves his office just as Urie arrives.

"Hello," Urie says, returning his smile.

"Classes going okay?"

Urie nods. "Pretty well." _Except chemistry._ "Is it allowed—I mean, if we needed extra time for a project, would we be allowed the keys to—say, the chemistry lab?"

Washuu laughs. The lights in this hallway glare overhead. "Ordinarily, no, but Urie, you seem responsible. I've heard nothing but good things from your teachers. I can ask Tatara."

"I'd like to be able to work in there tomorrow afternoon," Urie says, hope stirring.

"I'll send Tatara an email and copy you." Washuu nods.

 _You're actually intervening on my behalf?_ Urie gapes after him as Washuu slips into his office. "Thank you," he calls.

He meanders his way through Furuta's session. Sometimes it almost seems as if Furuta's amused by Urie—his lips look like he's fighting a smile, and his eyes gleam at the weirdest times. Like when Urie's describing his father's death. Which he didn't want to do in the first place.

"You can go," Furuta dismisses him. "Until next week, Kuki. Good luck in chemistry tomorrow."

 _You heard that?_ Urie scowls as he stalks back to Dorm Block 20.

"You really have to join us tonight," Shirazu says when Urie arrives back in his room. Shirazu's studying his face in the mirror, playing with his hair, while Mutsuki curls up on his bed reading a book of haikus. Except Mutsuki's eyes glaze over instead of running over the words.

"Boring?" Urie asks.

Mutsuki shakes his head. "No. Kaneki lent them to me." He pushes himself up on his elbow and winces.

"You okay, Tooru?" asks Shirazu.

"Just must've eaten something weird at lunch," Mutsuki answers. "Stomach hurts."

Urie sighs.

"Back to Urie." Shirazu snaps his fingers. "You _are_ joining, aren't you?"

 _I would rather gouge out my eyes_. But it's expected. And fraternizing will help his applications, according to everything Urie's read on the internet. And he needs to make that card. He nods.

"How's your chemistry project going?" Kaneki asks when he joins them in the lounge. Saiko's advocating for an animated fairy tale that sounds repulsive to Urie.

"Terribly," Urie answers.

"Mutsuki, help me with the popcorn!" calls Juuzou, grinning wildly, red strings marring his lips and arm. Despite clearly not feeling well, Mutsuki hurries over.

"How so?" Kaneki wants to know.

"You're not invited," Nishiki shouts from across the room, his arm wrapped around his girlfriend's waist, as Tsukiyama appears.

Hinami elbows her roommate as Yoriko frowns. " _You_ are," Touka amends. Good God, this is becoming a full-on party. Urie's palms sweat. Probably Nishiki and Kimi will make out, especially if Saiko wins this game of rock-paper-scissors and gets to show her romantic happily-ever-after fantasy. "But Kanae's not."

"Have fun," Kanae, who barely emerged from the stairwell, snaps, before ducking back inside. Tsukiyama scowls and storms after his roommate.

Kaneki sighs, rubbing his face. Hide shrugs, flopping down on the couch. "Can I help at all?"

 _I don't need your help!_ "No," Urie says in a tight voice. "Not unless you can get my partners to actually take it seriously." _Did I just say that?_

"Oh." Understanding dawns on Kaneki's face. "Hey, Mutsuki!"

"Yeah?" Mutsuki carries a huge bowl of popcorn over to the couch. Hide grabs the bowl, tossing several kernels at Juuzou, who laughs hysterically. How is Kanae banned but not this kid?

 _Only the RAs, Kurona, and Ayato don't want to come_ , Urie realizes. He's envious. Shinohara peeks out of the door to his room, and Juuzou runs over to offer him some popcorn.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Nothing?" Mutsuki offers.

"Urie's putting overtime on your chemistry project," Kaneki says.

"Oh—yeah, he mentioned that." Mutsuki offers Urie a faint smile. "I can help."

It's something. Even if relying on Kaneki to get it chafes at Urie. _Why didn't_ I _ask Mutsuki?_

_I'm not good enough on my own._

_No._ Urie clenches his fists. _I_ am _good enough. I am. I am. I am!_

_I will be._

"I win!" cheers Saiko, throwing her hands in the air. Shirazu groans, head slumping down to his chest.

"Shirazu," complains Touka. "We were all rooting for you."

Nishiki opens his mouth as if to agree, and then shuts it when Kimi chimes in: "I'm looking forward to this one." And now Nishiki's _smiling_ , the bastard.

"I don't care," Hide says. "Any movie can be good, so long as there are good characters."

Urie snorts, sliding down to the floor. His mind churns ahead, planning his entire day tomorrow, from what chemicals he'll use to how much, and by the time the movie's over, he couldn't even say if he liked it or not.

* * *

"It's cold out," Mutuski remarks as they head down to the chemistry lab just after lunch. He hugs himself and hops over a loose cobblestone.

"The lab's heated," Urie responds. The principal came through for him, and Tatara dropped off the lab keys with Shinohara.

Mutsuki hunches his shoulders as they climb the stairs to the second-floor lab. Then he frowns. "What's he doing?"

Urie peers over the railing to see Juuzou hugging a tree branch, a sketchpad in hand. "Maybe Uta gave him extra homework and he actually decided to do it instead of biting off Uta's ear. Or nose."

Mutsuki snorts. "I like Juuzou."

"Huh?" Urie fumbles to unlock the door.

"He's strange, but so is everyone," Mutsuki says.

"Only here," Urie grouses. "Not elsewhere." _How long have you been in institutions like these?_

He remembers his father, and how he complained after arresting more and more people related to the investigation taking over his life. How they had to arrest kids, sometimes. Urie remembers his father working late into the night. He never slept.

 _Those kids would have ended up here,_ Urie realizes. Maybe some of them are still here. Hell, maybe Mutsuki's one of them.

And Dad died before he could finish his work. Urie swallows. _Can't think about that now_.

"Are you worried?" Mustuki questions, putting his lab coat on. "We'll figure it out, Urie. We have time."

"We have several different things to synthesize," Urie reports. "If we make the acetaminophen today, we'll be all right."

"Okay. Just—tell me what to do." Mutsuki holds out his hands.

 _You didn't read ahead of time_? Urie scans the pages. It is more complicated than it should be. "Screw these." He shoves them to the side.

"Huh?"

"There's gotta be a shortcut," Urie says, gathering the ingredients. "If I can use bleach as a reagent to oxidize the ethanol into an acid, with ammonia as the base, the 4-aminophel will react with the acid and make acetominophen."

"Oh. Okay." Mutsuki fumbles to discard his own instruction sheet. He looks lost. _Seriously, what kind of education have you even had?_

"And if we heat it it'll work even faster," Urie muses. "I think. Mutsuki, pour me 500 milliliters of bleach." He reaches for a round-bottomed flask. "And grab a stir bar too!" he hollers. Perusing the cupboards for ammonia, he decides to ignore the suggestion printed on the papers about working in a fume hood. They don't need to. They're not working with anything terribly dangerous. He slips gloves on and shrugs into his coat.

Mutsuki's bob is long enough that Urie wonders whether he should tie it back, but Mutsuki doesn't appear to consider it, so Urie won't bring it up with him.

"Let's get a flame going," Urie says. Mutsuki gives him a timid smile. It's actually almost cute. He may not be super creative, but he can follow orders.

"It smells weird," Mutsuki comments.

"Don't breath it in," Urie says, rolling his eyes.

"I won't." Mutsuki frowns and peers at their sheet again.

"Irrelevant," Urie snaps. _Come on, Mutsuki_. "We've deviated already from the instructions, we—"

Mutsuki coughs.

"Cover your mouth, would you?" Urie grunts. His eyes sting. Damn allergies. "Do you have the flu or something?"

"Huh?"

"This cough, and your stomachache yesterday." Urie's own throat tickles. Hopefully Mutsuki isn't spreading his germs.

Mutsuki shakes his head. "Can I open a window?"

"It's cold. Suck it up and go check the heat—you can do that, can't you?"

Mutsuki looks hurt, but he obeys. Urie turns away to look at the plans he's drawn out when he hears another rasping cough. And the sharp sound of glass shattering.

"Oops," Mutsuki ekes out.

Urie whirls around to see their experiment splattered over the counter and the floor, shards of glass winking and taunting him. "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry!" Mutsuki clutches his face.

"You—you—we'll have to—no, _I'll_ have to—" Now Urie's eyes burn and he can feel actual tears. _I'm going to fail—and now Principal Washuu will want to know how it went, and I'll have to tell him, or lie and become just like these delinquents—why did you have to die, Dad? If it weren't for you—why am I here? Why am I stuck with all you incompetent barnacles?_ His thoughts race, decking him again and again in the gut. His chest aches. His lungs tighten. His knees crunch the glass as he kneels. "God fucking dammit!"

Mutsuki flinches, gaping at him. Tears bead in his eyes.

_Oh, hell. Look at us. A couple of failures._

_Why do I always get the short end of the stick?_ He thinks of Takeomi, that stupid glib senior who still has his dad and will certainly get scholarships, and how he looks at Urie like he's just a stupid kid. "I'm giving it my all," he bursts out, his fingers slicing against the glass. _Fuck it!_ "Why—you're all in my way—I've never liked any of you, I hate you, I hate _all of you—_ Shirazu, Saiko—you can all just fail, I don't care, but why—" _Why do you have to drag me down with you?_

His chest heaves, and his eyes burn like they're on fire. _Dad, why are you dead?_

"Urie…"

 _Shut up, shut up, don't say anything! I meant it!_ But he doesn't feel better for having said it. The words sear his esophagus, curdle in his stomach. He doubles over, muffling a sob. He's shaking. He feels like he's falling.

He feels arms encircling him, pulling him up. _Mutsuki?_

"It's okay," Mutsuki's saying, and Urie doesn't understand how or why he could say that. "We're not in your way—it's painful being alone—it's _agonizing_." His voice breaks.

"Huh?" Urie gapes up at Mutsuki. His chest shudders, and all he wants to do is cry, and the look on Mutsuki's face—it's like he'll let him. _And I just told you_ — _why would you be so kind? Why?  
_

Mutsuki sighs and lets him go, crawling across the floor, gathering the glass in his palm. _You—_ And then Urie's eyes catch on a red blotch staining the back of Mutsuki's pants. "You're hurt!"

"I am?" Mutsuki sits up, examining his palms.

"No, your—" Urie stops himself. _The stomachache…_ He swallows. His throat aches as if hands close over it. He leans over, hacking.

"Urie!"

"I'm okay," he ekes out, wiping his face. _You're—a woman?_

_Or are you? Does it even matter?  
_

_It doesn't._

Mutsuki's face drains as if he's just realizing what Urie's talking about. He sinks back on his heels.

"I wouldn't—tell," Urie manages. _You're too good for this place, Mutsuki. I'm—sorry._

Mutsuki nods. "I won't, either."

Shame shoves its fingers down his throat. The room spins, glass shards and the window and its light, the mess of ammonia and bleach, Mutsuki's face looking at him without any condemnation despite how cruel Urie was to him— _we're both alone._

_Help. Help me._

* * *

"Are you really that stupid?" Juuzou wonders, peering in through the chemistry lab window. Even from this far away in the tree, he can tell that Mr. I'm-The-Smartest is mixing two chemicals that are going to get both him and Mr. Quiet killed.

 _Well, whatever_. Juuzou turns back to his drawing of the giraffe. He remembers Mama teaching him about them. He's always wanted to see one in real life, but apparently he has to go to a zoo for that. And no one's exactly volunteering to take him on trips. They all look at him with disgust in their eyes. Except for that senior, Kaneki, but he looks at everyone like they're fun. And Shinohara.

Speaking of Shinohara, he's planning an ice cream event for their dorm. Juuzou overheard him talking with Amon about it. He even said he would let Juuzou help set it up. The sketch of the giraffes turns into one of ice cream.

Juuzou peers into the lab window again. No sign of Urie or Mutsuki. _Maybe they're dead._

He hops down from the tree, climbing the stairs to the second floor lab. He could get a kick out of taunting Urie for this. Peering through the window, he catches sight of both Mutsuki and Urie crouched on the floor, crawling around and coughing.

He taps on the glass. Urie peers up, his eyes and streaming.

 _Oh, what the hell?_ Juuzou shoves the door open. "So, Kuki Urie, tell me again how you're going to get a scholarship when you don't even know that ammonia and bleach make chlorine gas together?"

"What?" Urie gapes at him.

"You should probably get out of there," Juuzou says, pinching his nose. "Unless of course you want to die. In which case, can I send Seidou in to join you?" _You don't believe me, do you? Your loss._ He turns to leave.

Mutsuki gags. Urie grabs Mutsuki's arms, hustling him out the door and slamming it behind them.

"It's a chemical weapon," Juuzou informs them, slinging his arms back and sliding them across the railing. "Creating it's a crime."

"We can clean—" Mutsuki tries, before a coughing spasm takes over. Urie's face looks ghastly white against his purple hair.

"Nah," says Juuzou. "You really poisoned yourself there, Urie."

Urie doubles over, gulping in air. Wheezing. Juuzou's heard the sound of terror before. "Can't—breathe," Urie ekes out.

"Get—Shinohara," croaks Mutsuki. "Please?"

Juuzou's tempted to ask _what will you give me?_ But he ignores it and nods, sauntering off towards Dorm Block 20. Once he's out of Mutsuki and Urie's sight, he breaks into a run. Neither of them looked like they were in good shape.

He pounds on Shinohara's door. "Shinohara!"

"Hey!" Seidou barks, appearing from the stairwell. "Don't—"

Juuzou flips his RA off. " _Shinohara!"_

Seidou lunges for Juuzou just as the door flies open. "Juuzou!"

"Mutsuki and Urie made chlorine gas in the chemistry lab," Juuzou reports, yanking his shoulder out of Seidou's grasp. "I'm pretty sure you're going to need Hazmat to clean it up. And they're both pretty sick."

" _What?"_ Seidou shrieks.

Shinohara takes off, Seidou and Juuzou at his heels. They sprint up the stairs, where Mutsuki and Urie lean against the railing, both of them still coughing and with their eyes streaming—from the gas or from fear, Juuzou can't tell.

"My God!" cries Seidou, dropping down next to them.

"Seidou, call security," orders Shinohara. " _Now_."

"But Mado's—"

"We still have Tokage and the other guards." Shinohara kneels down. "Calm down, Tooru, Kuki. You're gonna be okay. Just breathe deep and slow."

"Wasn't him," Urie croaks. "Was—me." He slams his fist into the cement wall. Blisters mar his hand.

"Calm down," Shinohara repeats, pulling out a water bottle and dumping it over both Mutsuki and Urie's hands. "You're going to be okay. We'll get this cleaned up. It was an accident, right?"

Mutsuki nods, gagging, but no vomit comes up.

"Juuzou," Shinohara says. "Help me get them to the nurse's station, okay?"

 _Are you sure they don't need to go to the hospital?_ Juuzou thinks. But he nods, reaching down to sling Mutsuki's arms over his shoulder.

"They're on their way!" Seidou reports.

"Great. Call Kanou and Banjou and tell them to get ambulances ready," Shinohara says. "Stay here until security arrives, okay?"

Seidou nods.

"I'm—sorry," Urie chokes out.

"Don't apologize yet," Shinohara tells him. "Focus on breathing, okay?"

"T-thanks," Mutsuki manages, looking to Juuzou.

 _You're sincere_. Juuzou's impressed.

* * *

 _Wow,_ Juuzou thinks. The waiting room in the hospital is crowded with Kaneki, Hide, Shirazu, Saiko and her friend Hsiao, and Seidou, who for some reason decided to show he has a heart and got them all permission to visit. Even Kaneki. _Urie and Mutsuki have a lot of friends_. Which is funny to Juuzou, because neither of them is very friendly.

"They're going to be fine," Shinohara says again. "Just have to spend the night in the hospital for observation."

"Thank God," Saiko sighs.

Shirazu shakes his head. "I can't believe that happened."

"Thank you, Juuzou," says Shinohara, appearing beside him.

"Huh?" Juuzou blinks up at him.

"Urie says you warned them."

"Oh." Juuzou shrugs. "They were stupid."

Shinohara snorts. "Everyone does stupid things at times."

Juuzou frowns.

"I'm proud of you for getting me," Shinohara says.

 _Proud?_ Juuzou bites the inside of his cheeks. Blood fills his mouth, but it's never as satisfying as he anticipates.

_Look at my pet boy; isn't he great?_

But Shinohara isn't trying to show him off. No one's even listening to them—everyone else gathers near the swinging doors to the emergency room while they're in a corner. A newscaster blares a story about a firefighter rescuing a calico kitten. Juuzou smiles.

"You like cats?" Shinohara remembers.

Juuzou nods. _You really mean it when you say you're proud of me, don't you?_

Somehow that makes Juuzou feel light. He beams up at Shinohara.


	12. Good RAs Go Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! There's some underage drinking this chapter.

_Every word he says is a dagger in me!_

_In my life_

_There's been no one like him anywhere_

_Anywhere, where he is_

_If he'd ask_

_I'd be his_

_"In My Life," Les Misérables_

* * *

"Don't worry about me," grumbles Mado. A bruise mottles half of his face, purple and black and crusted in scabs. His split lips break into a smile.

Akira clutches her father's hand. "The doctor says you'll be out by next week."

"Indeed." Mado's eyes travel to Amon. "Still haven't found the blue skirt?"

Amon stands beside Mado's hospital bed, listening to the machines beep and whir around him. _Mado's lucky,_ they say.

He shakes his head.

" _You have potential, Koutarou Amon," a voice cut in. Amon stopped, grasping his knees as he sucked in air. He outran all his classmates by half a minute, by the looks of it. Not that it's enough to win him respect at track meets, because no one wants to watch a kid from a school where it's well known that many students have criminal records win. He squinted up at the man who resembles Einstein. The half-crazed head of security._

" _You do," Mado confirmed. "And your classmates look to you as a leader."_

_Amon nodded, glugging water._

" _They're looking for a soccer coach for middle schoolers," Mado added. "You should apply."_

Huh? _Amon peered up at Mado. It was the first time someone bothered to suggest he do something other than get good grades and focus on getting out of here._

" _You have to invest where you are," Mado told him the next year, when Amon was a sophomore. "Or else you'll stagnate. You need to keep fighting for the future you want, Amon."_

"Well," muses Mado. "I'll make sure to catch her when I'm back."

"I'm sure you will," Amon says. Fury coils inside him. _Why are you so selfish, Kaneki?_ Why can't that stupid kid just tell Amon who was with him? He hangs out with so many different people—Hide and now Nishiki, Touka and Hinami, those juniors from Seidou's floor—it's impossible to figure out who it was because all the RAs were out dealing with Juuzou and his Jaws-inspired attack on Marude.

Guilt embeds itself deep under Amon's skin, scraping his bones. Mado's invested so much in him—he wrote the recommendation for Amon to be an RA, even though given his file, he should never have been allowed to. And now he can't do something as simple as find the asshole that hurt him.

"Finally," Seidou grouses when he and Akira leave the room. "Ready to go?"

"Yes." Akira grabs the car keys. Shinohara signed a pass allowing her access to one of the school's vehicles for the day.

"Any updates on Mutsuki and Urie?" Amon questions. They leave through the hospital's glass doors. Seidou had to arrive early in the morning when Urie and Mutsuki were discharged, and then volunteered to come back with Akira and Amon. The evening air feels cool and crisp.

Seidou sighs. "Shinohara checked on them earlier. They're doing fine. Just hereby barred from doing more chemistry alone. And Tatara will probably fail them, knowing him, because he's a sadistic bastard. Also the chemistry building's officially all-clear today." His voice adopts a mocking tone. A scowl plays with his mouth.

"Thanks for the update," Akira says, studying the pink sky.

"You guys want to get something to eat?" Amon ventures.

_We're supposed to be a team._

_Some team._

"Why not?" Seidou says.

Akira checks her watch. "As long as we eat somewhere close. We have to be back by eight."

"There's that burger place on the way," Seidou says as he slides into the backseat. Amon takes the passenger.

"It's a tavern," Akira objects.

"So? It has good burgers."

She looks to Amon. "It does," he confirms.

"Fine." Akira sighs and jerks the keys in the ignition. "I assume it has salads too?"

"Probably." Although Amon's never checked.

The moment they enter the ratty place with its sixties and seventies movie posters, red and white checkered floor, and leather booths, the smell of beer washes over them. Akira's nose wrinkles.

"So what's with you, Seidou?" she asks as they take their seats at a table in the back corner. Amon scans the menu. _Salad_. Caesar, Greek, house. _Good_. Akira will be fine.

He bites his lip. "Oh, I don't know. I just have the worst possible floor in the entire school, and so far one of my students sucked out the VP's earbone, two more created a chemical weapon, another doesn't obey a single one of my dorm-groundings and laughs in my face every time I try to set a boundary, and the other one—well, Shirazu's all right, I guess."

"You are having a rough time," Akira acknowledges.

Amon grips the water the waitress sets down. It bleeds onto his hand, cold, but he needs to squeeze something. "Look at me, Seidou."

"Yeah, look at you," Seidou says, rolling his eyes. "You're respected by everyone. Even Juuzou, to whatever extent he can respect anybody."

"I told him to dress more appropriately the other day, make sure he's wearing something that covers his legs, and he put on a trench coat," Amon points out.

Akira covers her mouth to hide a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah," Seidou says as the waitress comes by. "Your house burger. With cheese. Also a Guinness."

 _What?_ Amon gapes at Seidou. _You're ordering beer?_

"It's been a terrible week," Seidou says, as if daring them to intervene.

Akira snaps her menu shut. "A house burger with avocado."

 _No salad?_ The waitress nods, writing it down. _You're not checking ID_?

"And a Guinness for me, too," Akira adds.

"A house burger for me, too," Amon says. "And bacon."

"Any drinks for you?" The waitress beams at him.

He shakes his head. "Are you two out of your minds?"

"Like Seidou said," Akira says, her voice hard. "It's been a terrible week." She reaches into her pocket and slips Amon the car keys. Her fingers brush his. He curls his back. "You do have your license, right?"

"Of course."

"I don't," Seidou says. The smell of grilling meat wafts through the air. Amon's stomach gurgles. "I'm a failure at everything."

"You are not," Amon cuts in, heart pounding, because he wants it to be true. Not just for Seidou, but for himself. His fingers press the warm metal cross around his neck. "Never give up, okay, Seidou? You'll reach them. I know you will."

Seidou's eyes skitter away. "Maybe I'll believe that after a drink."

"Just one drink," Akira warns Seidou. "We can't get drunk."

"Burgers and a drink," Amon can't help but say. "You're going wild."

Akira lets out the first laugh Amon thinks he's heard from her. Even Seidou grins.

* * *

Two hours later, and Amon pulls into the school parking lot with Seidou cackling hysterically over how uptight Amon's being and how obnoxious he finds Furuta and his penchant for clown figurines. "How the hell am I supposed to spill my darkest secrets when there's a miniature army laughing at me?"

"It is bizarre," mumbles Akira. Who had _three_ beers. Her face presses into the dashboard, and after six tries to get her seatbelt on, Amon had to do it for her.

Seidou's phone rings, and he curses as he takes it out. "Why are you calling me? I'm in the middle of something important, you bastard!"

"Takizawa?"

"M-Marude!" gasps Seidou, "I—I thought—you were someone else—I'm so sorry—"

"No way," whispers Akira, her eyes glassy. Seidou looks completely sobered up. Amon shakes his head. _Can't save you here._

"Right. I'm—on my way," Seidou ekes out, hanging up.

"Was that really him?" Amon gasps.

Seidou yanks open the car door and slides down onto the pavement. "He wants to hear from me about Mutsuki and Urie's behaviors."

"Well, you look sober," Akira offers with a grin. She stumbles.

"Hey!" Seidou scrambles up to grab her. He glares at Amon.

"I'll get her back," Amon promises, heart pounding. _I should have done something. I shouldn't have let them drink—what would Mado do if he knew I let his daughter get drunk?_ Although hopefully Mado, of all people, understands that Akira makes her own decisions.

Akira slings her arm over Amon's shoulder. Her breath feels hot against his cheek as they stagger off. "You know what, Koutarou?"

His familiar name. The trees close overheard, shrouding the path back to Dorm Block 20. The lights shine through, but shadows slip and weave all around them. "What?"

"I _hate_ you."

Amon freezes. Her words stab him, and he's bleeding out, bleeding the same black blood he bled when they talked to him in the police station, when he told them what Donato made him do— _why me, why me, what was so messed up about me that he chose me? What did he see?_

_Why didn't I have the guts to stop it?_

"What happened to my father—you should have gotten—from Kaneki—you could have, but you're a—" Akira hiccups, and then tumbles to her knees, gagging.

"Shit!" Amon crouches beside her, trying to yank her up. "Akira—"

She chortles, spittle and vomit dangling from the corner of her lips. Her fingers reach out to tap his nose. "Why didn't you try harder?"

_I don't know._

_What if I never know?_

_What if I never try harder? Why am I so weak?_

"You're right," he says. "I should have tried harder."

Akira groans. "It's so _warm_ out."

"No, it's actually—"

Akira's hands grasp her cardigan, yanking it off. On the path. Outside. She kicks off her shoes and reaches for her blouse.

"Nope," Amon interjects, grabbing her wrist. "You've gotta—we've gotta get home first, Akira, to the dorm. You have to sleep it off." He reaches for her shoes with his other hand. God, they're small.

Akira leans her head against his neck as he hauls her up. Her hands grip his shoulders.

The temperature might be chilly, but Amon's cheeks feel as if they're blistering from all the blood rushing into them. "I'm sorry, Akira."

"Why?" she asks, tilting her head back. Blond strands tumble over her cheekbones, sticking to her lips. He wants to brush them away.

 _No, you don't, Amon!_ Gritting his teeth, he hauls her the rest of the way to the dorm, where thankfully, the lounge is empty except for Tsukiyama and Yoriko, the former scolding the latter about how she isn't cooking chicken the right way. They don't give Amon and Akira a second glance.

The door to the stairwell almost bangs Amon in the nose. He stumbles back. Akira lets out a groan.

"Oh," Kaneki ekes out, and for a moment Amon just knows Akira's going to go apeshit on Kaneki, but instead she just drops her head, and she might as well have screamed at him, because now Kaneki definitely knows she's drunk.

Amon could hit himself. Now any respect Kaneki actually had for him—it's got to be gone.

"Do you need help?" Kaneki asks.

 _Huh?_ Amon glowers at him. _You're not taunting me?_

Kaneki holds his hands out, uncertain.

"No," Amon snaps. "I've got her." It unsettles him, the idea that Kaneki would want to help. _Probably just guilt_. He shoves open the door to Akira's floor. Kimi isn't here. Dread seeps into his mind. _She's probably in Nishiki's room_.

"Are you staying?" Akira asks as he heaves her up in his arms, laying her down on the bed. Now she's really undoing her blouse.

"No, I'll—check on you later," Amon says. He turns around and spots a cat-shaped trash bin. He drags it over to the side of the bed. "In case you get sick again."

"You know I have a cat? Maris Stella. She's a priss. I miss her." Akira sighs and rolls over, hair splayed across the mattress. Her head's not even on a pillow.

"You told us," Amon says.

"Cool."

 _Get out_. Amon rushes to his own room, pausing to knock on Nishiki's door. "Kimi, your roommate's sick, and if you go down within five minutes I won't report you."

_I'm a sell-out._

"Thanks!" Kimi chirps as she opens the door, tank top askew.

Amon turns and stalks into his room, slamming the door. He can't yell at Nishiki. Not after what he's been up to.

Akira's words reverberate in his mind. _Do you hate me? Or do you just blame me?_

He drops down to the floor and grunts. _One. Two._

" _Exercise takes my mind off things," Amon told Mado as a freshman._

" _Push-ups were always my go-to," Mado said._

_Forty-six. Forty-seven._

And on and on he goes, until sweat burns his eyes and he drops to the wooden floor, shoulders screaming and abs crying.

And it's not enough, because he can still hear Akira. And Donato, and Mado, and himself.

* * *

"I can hear you, so you might as well come out."

The PE teacher's voice cuts through the gym. Huddled behind the retractable bleachers, Kanae wipes at her eyes. The sun glows golden outside. Her watch reads 6:35 am.

"Look, if you don't, I'm going to start getting suspicious, _Kanae_."

 _You know it's me_? Kanae leaps to her feet and scrambles out. "I wasn't doing anything wrong."

"I didn't say you were," Matsumae returns, studying Kanae. "Aside from the fact that you clearly snuck out of your dorm, and with all the strange occurrences lately—"

"I had nothing to do with what happened to Mado!" Kanae insists. "Why would I wear a blue skirt?" _Damn that Touka._ "You know me." Matsumae's been a friend of Shuu's dad for years. Shuu says he looks at her like an aunt, or a mother.

"I don't know," Matsumae says, raising her eyebrows. A pair of gym shorts and a sweatshirt hang on her frame. "You do refuse to shower after PE classes. And I have access to your medical records, Kanae."

"Huh?" Kanae glares at Matsumae. _Are you saying what I think you're saying_?

"It lists you as male, so I don't think you need to worry," Matsumae adds, and horror wells up inside Kanae. And a blanket of hopelessness wraps itself around her.

" _You can carry our family name on," Dad told his sons._

And I can't as Karren, _she thought when they couldn't answer anymore._

"How did you—"

"I assume neither Mirumo nor Shuu knows," Matsumae says.

 _You found out since I got here_. Kanae gulps. "You wouldn't—"

"I won't tell." Matsumae presses her lips together.

"I wasn't involved in that incident with security," Kanae insists, fists balling up.

Matsumae doesn't respond. "What are you doing out here so early?"

Kanae swallows. "I'm worried—about Shuu."

Matsumae beckons for Kanae to sit on the bleachers. "I noticed he didn't come to dinner last night."

"He made time to yell at Yoriko for cooking her chicken too plainly, but he isn't eating anything himself," Kanae admits. "He hasn't eaten much since that idiot rejected him." _And if it starts again—the depression, the anorexia—it will be my fault._

"So he's interested in someone." Matsumae rests her chin on her fist. "And you?"

"Huh?"

"How are you handling that?"

Kanae's face reddens. "Shut up."

"I'm your teacher. Watch your mouth."

Kanae scowls. She can't tell Matsumae all of it, about how she _does_ know who pushed Mado down those stairs, about how she tried to use it to help Shuu and all she wound up doing was hurting him. Now Kaneki, Touka, Kimi, and Nishiki have gotten everyone to treat them like pariahs. It wasn't even Shuu's doing. Although they've started to warm up to Shuu, Kanae knows the pain lingers. And _still_ , Shuu wants Kaneki. Last night Kanae heard him crying, and it crushed her.

_Do you love him?_

_He's not worth it_. Kanae kicks the hardwood floor.

"Kanae. What. Were. You. Doing. Out. Here?"

 _Oh. Right_. "I just wanted to take a walk."

"Don't lie to me again."

Kanae cringes and grips her knees. She clamps her mouth shut. _I was seeing how to sneak off campus so I can get Shuu some better food tonight, maybe a chocolate croissant from that French bakery or eggplant parmagiana from the Italian restaurant. And then I fell asleep and you came and scared me._ She remembers Shuu telling her about his adventures in Italy and France, and she laughed and told him that she grew up in Germany and had been to more places than him, and Shuu actually looked impressed with her. His lips curved and he pounced at her, grasping her shoulders and demanding she describe all the art she'd seen, all the foods she tasted, so he could recreate the food and imagine the art. They spent hours in the kitchen that summer, sweating and chopping up rare ingredients that Shuu spent a fortune on, and Kanae almost felt like she was home again.

"Well?"

"I was trying to help Shuu," Kanae says, meeting Matsumae's gaze.

"Through illegal means?"

"Not drugs if that's what you're getting at."

"It was." Matsumae sighs. "Fine. I know you wouldn't lie about that. Shuu means too much to you."

" _You're Kanae, right?"_

_She peered up from the bench she crouched on, the sweet smell of roses tickling her nose._

" _Kanae von Rosewald?"_

_She nodded, and he smiled, and in that moment Kanae forgot she was supposed to be a boy now, the lone survivor without a family, because Shuu's smile offered her another chance._

"Can I go back to my dorm?" Kanae asks.

Matsumae sighs and nods. "Hurry."

Kanae scrambles out of the gym, trekking up the stairs and to her dorm.

" _Please stop crying alone," Shuu told her. "Live beautifully with your head up high, just like the rose on your chest."_

 _I don't know how to live beautifully,_ Kanae thinks as she kicks a rock and watches it clatter down the stairs. _And for all my attempts to live with my head held high, I just end up drowning myself._

_Can you live that way without shoving someone else's head underwater?_

"Aren't you up early," comments a voice as Kanae reaches the top of the stairs. Kanae shrieks.

"Calm down, hon," says her teal-haired literature teacher, Eto. Kanae doesn't quite know what to make of Eto, but she read Shuu's essay on _Hamlet_ out loud to the class as an exemplary paper last week, so she can't be too bad. "As long as you pass your reading quiz today, I don't care."

Kanae manages a smile. Below her, she can hear Matsumae on her cell phone, chattering about her plans for the day. "Won't be a problem."

"Good." Eto nods. "Make sure you have a good breakfast."

Kanae blinks and rushes away. _She wouldn't have been listening. She couldn't have heard all that._

_Could she?_


	13. A Little Water Clears Us of This Deed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I do want to warn for (non-graphic) animal cruelty this chapter, plus lots of thoughts of abandonment. And cruelty in general.

_I dreamed a dream in times gone by_   
_When hope was high and life worth living_   
_I dreamed, that love would never die_   
_I dreamed that God would be forgiving_

_"I Dreamed a Dream," Les Misérables_

* * *

_Touka, you're the big sister. You have to teach Ayato._

_Ayato, you're the brother. You have to protect your sister. Promise me._

_Why do I even care?_ Ayato wonders as he slips out his window. Juuzou's asleep. Probably. But he doesn't seem to care if Ayato leaves or comes or dies. _You left, Dad._

_I'm more responsible than you._

Ayato lands with a grunt on the grass. His ankle twinges, but it's okay. He scrambles over to the bag he stashed beneath Shinohara wife's rosebush and pulls out the spray paint and the blue skirt Kaneki thought he'd thrown away. Ayato will throw it away for good soon enough.

Yoshimura and Yomo know it was Touka. So does Uta. But tonight, she has an alibi. Akira's holding a floor meeting, and while Ayato and his floor are supposed to be studying or sleeping, he'll be Touka for twenty minutes of havoc.

" _Are you sure you need spray paint?" scoffed the man Ayato only knows as Jason. "That's a strange request, coming from you."_

He plucks out the spray paint, heading towards the gym. A smile tugs at his lips. They deserve this, they do. All the stupid teachers and his stupid RA. They look at him like he's beyond hope. _You're all bastards._

He takes out the spray paint and yanks his sweatshirt, the one he hasn't washed in months, up over his nose. _FUCK YOU ALL,_ he writes across the gym.

 _HELL'S WAITING FOR YOU, MADO,_ he writes across the lab building. Because all the kids here hate Mado, except for his daughter and Mr. Righteousness, Amon.

Should he go to Anteiku? Ayato hesitates. _Yes_. That will upset Touka, too. Make it less likely anyone will suspect her, and besides, there's no way Yoshimura will blame Touka for this. Maybe he'll figure out it's Ayato. Maybe not.

 _Who cares?_ If they kick him out, Ayato won't have to worry about his promise to Dad anymore.

" _You realize this will be added to your tab," Jason warned him, cracking his knuckles._

" _I'll pay," Ayato assured him._

" _You have until next week."_

He could break into Anteiku. It's pretty much the only way Ayato's going to get the money he needs.

But as Ayato heads across the sprawling grass in east campus, he doesn't know if he can actually do it. Touka will never forgive him.

_What do I care?_

If Yoshimura had actually talked some sense into Dad, he wouldn't have had to go away. Ayato's hands ball into fists. _Assholes_. But Yoshimura preferred reassurances, platitudes over facing the reality of their situation, and Dad—he preferred that wimpy shit, too. From what Ayato's heard, Yoshimura hasn't learned his lesson either. Hinami lost her family because of his cowardice, too.

_I'll never be like you, or Dad._

_PUSSY_ , Ayato spray paints over the side wall. As for the window, he grabs a nearby rock and throws it, shattering it. Ayato leaps over the sill and inside. He grabs the register, fiddling with the drawer. _Come on!_

He takes the blue skirt and drops it to the cement floor. The paint can, too. Let Mado try to fingerprint it, that crazy bat. Ayato's wearing gloves.

 _I bet I know the passcode, old man_ , Ayato thinks. He types in the name. _Ukina_. It's a name Ayato heard Yoshimura telling Yomo about once. His dead wife, though Ayato knows nothing about her.

The drawer pops open, and Ayato stuffs his pockets with the money inside. _Sap_.

"Are you proud now, Dad?" he can't resist asking as he strolls back towards south campus and Dorm Block 20.

Something rustles in the trees nearby. Ayato's heart slams in his chest.

It can't be security; they would have already pounced.

_Get out of here._

He sprints. Behind him, he finally hears adult voices approaching from up the hill. _Sorry, whoever's hiding here. You'll probably get blamed for my mess._

But at least it's not Touka.

* * *

"I love him. I love him. I love him." The words pulsate with each blow.

"Do you now?"

_Love—him—I—_

The face in front of him fades, and Mutsuki realizes someone's standing behind him, and he's in the _woods_ — _how_ —and his hands are covered in blood.

Something with fur lies in front of him, a mangled lump of shredded skin and guts. Mutsuki screams.

The knife slips through his hand. _I did this? To what?_ He covers his mouth, blood sliming his chin. _Ew!_

He whirls around to see Goumasa Tokage standing there. The second-in-command of security. Mutsuki looks down at the knife, at the— _what is it? A cat?—_ and trembles.

_I did this. I did this. I did this._

"I didn't mean to—I didn't know—I—" An owl wails, and crickets chirp. It should be peaceful, but Mutsuki's ruined it, of course he has, what was he doing, why can't he remember—how did he even get the cat? Did he lure it? _What did I do?_

"Shh," says Tokage, towering over Mutsuki. Nausea bubbles in Mutsuki's stomach. He can taste the blood. His legs give way, and he tumbles to the ground, spitting and gagging.

"Here." Tokage crouches and offers Mutsuki something that glistens. "It's better for carving."

_Another knife?_

_Why would you give me this?_ Mutsuki gapes at him, terror surging. _Please don't—don't touch—_ His breaths come quick and sharp, cutting his windpipe. He hacks.

"And here's a jar. You should clean up your work."

 _A_ jar? _What for?_ Mutsuki thinks of Kaneki, of Urie and Shirazu and Saiko—they'd be so horrified. They'd hate him. _I did this!_ "I didn't mean to."

"Part of you did." Tokage rises. A twig crunches under his boot. "I won't say a word."

_No! I'm not like this!_

_But I did this._ A tear leaks from Mutsuki's eye, mingling with the blood staining his cheek and dripping onto his hand. _I'm a freak._

"Get back to your dorm as soon as you can," Tokage adds, handing over a box of wipes. Mutsuki hesitates. "You want to return looking like that?"

Mutsuki shakes his head. _How did I even get out of my dorm?_ He grabs several wipes, cleaning his face, his hands.

"Put it in the jar."

Mutsuki shakes his head.

" _Put it in the jar."_

Mutsuki scrambles to obey. Blood slides down his hands, thick and lukewarm. He bites his tongue to keep from gagging.

"So who is it you love?" Tokage wants to know.

Mutsuki freezes.

"That's okay. I can understand wanting to keep that to yourself." Tokage lets out a guffaw. It echoes between the trees. Something rustles nearby, and Mutsuki wants to cower, but he has to stuff the remains of this—cat—in a jar.

_Poor kitty._

_I'm sorry._

Does _sorry_ matter, when he still killed it? Maybe he tricked it. Mutsuki cringes _. Did I pat it? Did it struggle?_ He doesn't see any scratches on his wrists.

"Good job." Tokage laughs as Mutsuki screws the cap on. "Now leave it here."

_Leave it?_

"I did the same thing," Tokage says. "I _do_ the same thing. Too many strays and abandoned animals around anyways. Their lives are just suffering anyways. You just put it out of its misery."

Mutsuki quakes. Tokage hands over more wipes.

"Now go back to your dorm."

Mutsuki scrambles through the woods. Someone else passes by, but he doesn't lift his eyes to look at their face.

"That one has potential," he hears Tokage say.

 _For what_? Mutsuki races towards the dorm. _I can't—I didn't—why?_ A sob tears from his throat. He rushes into the bathroom, scrubbing any remains of his crimes from his hands. _Not enough. I need to shower._

"Mutsuki!" Shirazu greets him when he approaches the dorm room.

Mutsuki stops dead in his tracks. "Your—"

"I shaved it," Shirazu announces, running his fingers over his now-buzzed hair.

"But why?" Mutsuki asks. He noticed blood on the cuff of his shirt and yanks his jacket down over it.

"Great question," Urie chimes in, flashing Mutsuki a smile that falters. "You okay?"

 _Do I look like I've been crying_? Mutsuki nods and grabs his shower supplies. He's going to throw up. He locks a bathroom stall behind him and clutches his face. _Why didn't you turn me in?_

He presses his fists against the sides of the stall. _How could I do that?_ Terror vibrates inside his shoulders, in his palms. He feels like exploding. _There's nothing I can do, is there? I need to get better. Better, not worse._

_Things were going so well._

The water in the toilet bowl swirls, and something else weaves into Mutsuki's memories. He shakes his head, digging his fingers into his temples.

"Mutsuki?" _Urie_.

And the memory's gone, just like that. Mutsuki inhales. "Yeah?"

"I was just—are you feeling sick again? We can get Seidou or Shinohara—"

Mutsuki yanks the stall door open. "I'm fine."

Urie studies him and nods. "If you're worried about what we did, I'm taking the blame."

"We both are." Mutsuki presses his fists over his eyes. Damn, they must look as red as they did on Saturday.

"Well, I have—chocolate. If you'd like some." Urie scowls. "When you're done with your shower."

Mutsuki gulps in air. _Push it away. Don't think about it_. "Okay."

_Pretend it never happened._

* * *

"Did you hear about what happened to Anteiku?"

"What?" Hinami throws the covers off. Even Touka sits straight up, rubbing her eyes.

Hinami's alarm chooses that moment to blare. She shuts off Katy Perry and turns to Yoriko. "What happened?"

"Someone broke in," Yoriko reports, running a comb through her wet hair. "Akira told me. And they also spray painted all these awful cuss words on the gym and the lab building. Oh, and supposedly they found a blue skirt in Anteiku, so it's got to be the same person who attacked Mado. That's why they told Akira first thing." She shudders. "It's creepy, like they're taunting staff about what they did. I'm glad you two didn't run into her when you were delivering Hetare."

Hinami looks at Touka, who's already texting Kaneki. "That's—wild," Hinami croaks.

In her dream, Mom was cooking for her. Fried chicken. Yoriko tried to make it using Hinami's mother's recipe yesterday, but it didn't quite work out, though Hinami and Touka won't tell Yoriko that.

Now, she's awake and she's _here_ , and here is falling apart.

Hinami pulls herself out of bed, changing into leggings and a giant, if lightweight, sweater. She brushes her hair and then joins Touka in the lounge, where they wait for Kaneki.

"I got rid of it," Kaneki insists the moment he sees them. "I _know_ I did. On south campus, too."

"Then how—" Touka lowers her voice. _They're standing awfully close together,_ Hinami notices.

The stairwell door opens, and Tsukiyama and Kanae leave, Kanae wearing sunglasses and a scowl. Tsukiyama at least beams at her as she rushes over. "Hinami!"

Touka and Kaneki both gape. Kanae strides out the door, but Tsukiyama halts.

"Did you—you heard what happened, didn't you?" Hinami asks. "Did you—"

Tsukiyama throws his head back and laughs. _He looks thinner._ " _Non, mademoiselle_. I promise you, I had nothing to do with this mischief."

"What about Kanae?"

"He's been weird lately, but I told him to leave it alone, so I'm sure he did." Tsukiyama frowns, rubbing his cheek.

Hinami nods. "Thank you, Tsukiyama."

He pats Hinami on the head and leaves, gaze lingering on Kaneki, who gives him a nod. Maybe Kaneki will forgive Tsukiyama. _Knowing Kaneki, he probably already has._

"Yoshimura texted me and told me he knows it wasn't me," Touka reports, wilting in relief.

"Good," Hinami says. Kaneki nods, his hand resting on Touka's shoulder.

"I guess it's not important then?" Touka ventures. "If someone else wants to be Blue Skirt, they're welcome to it."

"Touka, are you ready for breakfast?" Yoriko skips out of the stairwell. She halts, her eyes widening.

"What?"

"Never mind! Come on, Hinami!" Yoriko scrambles over, grabbing Hinami by her wrist and hauling her towards the door.

"What are you—wait!" Touka yelps as Kaneki jerks his hand away as if she's on fire. "It's not like that— _Yoriko!"_

Hinami chortles. Yoriko whirls around to give Touka a thumbs-up.

"They _should_ get together," Hinami crows. Yoriko nods rapidly.

"Whose business are you dissecting?" drawls a voice to their left. Hinami turns to see Ayato staring down at his phone, his sweatshirt shoved up to his elbows. He leans against a tree, his head cocked to the side like he's just too cool for school.

"Your sister's," Yoriko says brightly.

"Huh?" Ayato shoves his phone in his pocket. "She's got a—what?"

"We're just teasing," Hinami intercedes. Ayato's face is turning the color of a tomato.

And on the inside of his elbow is a bruise. A _blue_ bruise. Hinami frowns at it. _A blue—something._

Ayato yanks his sleeve down and storms off towards the cafeteria.

* * *

He's sitting in art class when they come for him.

The moment Furuta slides into Uta's dimly lit classroom, Juuzou suspects they're here for him. He sighs, setting aside his sketch of a cat.

"Suzuya!" calls Uta. "Come here, please."

"You should probably get your bags," Furuta adds, a sickly sweet smile playing with his lips.

Juuzou hates him. He scowls and packs up his sketchpad. His dumb roommate slumps in his seat over in the corner.

"What's this about?" whispers Hanbee, one of the only people besides Mutsuki in the junior class who seems to like Juuzou.

Juuzou shrugs.

"Well," says Hanbee. "Good luck."

Juuzou heads up the front of the classroom, where Uta's playing with his lip ring and Furuta's beaming down at him. "Follow me. I've already called for Shinohara."

"Are you forcing me to attend my appointment with you now?" Juuzou asks. "Or is Marude—" He can't decide which of the administrators has set them on him this time, but he knows it's one of them.

Furuta trills with laughter. "No, Juuzou, I'm afraid this is much more serious."

 _Huh?_ He hasn't even yelled at Seidou since the weekend chemistry incident.

Furuta leads up to the main offices, where he ushers Juuzou into Principal Washuu's office. Juuzou smirks as he spots Marude, bandages covering his ear. And that's the dean—Arima, and his staff, Ui and Hirako. And Shinohara, who sits stiff in a wooden chair, his face devoid of his usual kindness.

"What's going on?" Juuzou asks crankily. "I'm missing the only class I actually like sometimes, so—"

"Do you like art?" Furuta asks. Principal Washuu strokes his chin, watching Juuzou. He doesn't like the way Washuu looks at him. It's too familiar.

"I like drawing."

"How nice," says Furuta. "Why don't you show all of us what you were drawing?"

Juuzou frowns, but he complies, digging into his bag and pulling out his sketchpad. "Today's drawing?"

"Yes," Furuta says. "Uta described it, and we'd like to see it."

His voice makes Juuzou feel as if a hundred ants are marching their way down his spine. He flips it open to the half-finished sketch of the cat.

"Not bad," Furuta muses.

"It's enough," grunts Marude.

Juuzou's brow furrows. The curtains cover the windows, casting the room in a sickly mustard light.

"How is this enough?" snaps Shinohara. "So he likes cats; most of the kids here probably do—"

"Most of the kids aren't skipping therapy and stitching their own skin," Marude retorts. "And don't have a history of—violent dissection." He traces the side of his face near his ear.

"I think you're letting your personal biases get in the way," Shinohara states. Ui and Hirako exchange a look. Arima leans forward, studying Juuzou.

"What's going on?" Juuzou asks. He doesn't like everyone talking like there's some big secret he's not in on. _Someone tell me!_

Washuu reaches down and yanks something out of his desk drawer, setting it down with a clank on his desk. "Look familiar?"

It's red and crusty. And some fur—black fur, and an eye.

"Matsuri!" shouts Shinohara.

Juuzou clutches his face. " _Kitty!"_ He doubles over. "You—think—I—" _Of course._ "I didn't kill that thing!"

"That's enough!" snarls Shinohara.

"Matsuri, get rid of that!" orders Arima.

"It's evidence!"

" _How?"_ demands Ui.

"He was drawing cats, and one turns up dead, and that's a coincidence? With _his_ history of violence?" returns Matsuri. "He's a—"

"Not to mention, his file does report that he was forced to dress as a girl before," Marude adds as Furuta strokes his chin. "That could explain the blue skirt. We know that woman tried to make him into one—"

"Are you _trying_ to provoke a specific reaction right now?" demands Arima.

 _I'm not a girl!_ Juuzou lets out a shriek and charges at Marude, fists flailing. He'll take his nose this time—claw his eyes out—just like the cat— _I didn't kill—_

"Stop!" Arms clamp around his waist.

"I've seen enough," says Washuu. "Get him out of here."

"No!" Juuzou howls as someone drags him out. "You—I didn't!" _Why are you blaming me?_

"Juuzou, calm down!" bellows Shinohara, shoving him back as the door slams behind them. Juuzou clamps his hands over his own ears, screaming and shaking his head.

" _I didn't kill that cat!" And I'm a boy, I'm a boy, why—why—_

"Juuzou!" Shinohara's hands grip his wrists, yanking them away from his skull and pinning them against the wall. "I believe you!"

 _You do?_ Juuzou sucks in his breath, his throat raw from screaming. He shakes his head, calmer this time. "I didn't do it."

"I know you didn't, Juuzou."

 _Why does Marude have to look at me like I'm his worst nightmare just because I don't have something?_ "I hate him."

"I know that too."

Juuzou gulps. Shinohara lets go of his wrists, and Juuzou slumps. "What's going to happen?"

"You'll be okay," Shinohara assures him. "I promise you, Juuzou."

And because Shinohara believes him, Juuzou believes Shinohara. He nods. "Okay."

* * *

"So, what you're saying is, even though it's officially on his record now, he didn't do it and I'm not supposed to speak to him as if he did?" Seidou gapes.

"The cat incident is on his record," Shinohara corrects, pouring a pot of tea into a set of four cups. "The Mado incident is not." He looks at Akira. "Arima stood firm that there is not enough evidence for that."

Akira nods. She doesn't think Juuzou was involved in that. But was it really a coincidence that someone spray-painted, someone robbed Anteiku and left the skirt, and someone brutalized a poor cat all in one night?

"It could really be up to three people," Amon mutters as he accepts tea from Shinohara.

"I agree," Seidou says.

"I don't know who did it," Shinohara says. "Any of it. But Juuzou did not do any of it."

"Can his roommate verify where he was?" asks Akira.

"They both claim to have been asleep," says Seidou. "Mutsuki may have been out after hours, though."

"I don't like Mutsuki for any of this," Akira says.

"Neither do I," admits Seidou. "He's genuinely kind, and as far as the cat goes, he's notoriously squeamish." He scowls. "I still don't know why his records are withheld, but Furuta hinted it was a medical thing."

"Furuta shouldn't be sharing that," says Shinohara.

"He literally just said 'it could be many possibilities, like medical things.'"

"Did you write Mutsuki up for being late?" asks Amon.

Seidou sighs and shakes his head.

"It's okay to show mercy when you feel appropriate," Shinohara says.

Her father would disagree. Akira watches as Amon's brow crease. The tea tastes bitter.

"He'll be getting out Thursday," Akira reports. "My dad."

Shinohara nods. "We'll all be thankful to have him back."

"I should check on Juuzou," mumbles Seidou, dragging himself to his feet and chugging the rest of his tea. "Thanks, Shinohara."

"Thank you, Seidou." He nods at Seidou, who almost smiles. Akira bites back a grin of her own. Seidou could use some encouragement. He may be a stickler, but he sincerely wants to do well.

She and Amon leave shortly thereafter. The lounge is empty. Sweat slickens Akira's palms. "Amon?"

"Yes?" He turns around.

"I'm sorry for the other night. Being—you know. I shouldn't have done that."

"Oh." Amon nods. "I doubt it will happen again."

"It won't." Akira clears her throat. "So, when I woke up, my shirt was undone."

His face blooms red. "I didn't do anything! You—I left; I—"

"Amon," Akira cuts in, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder. Damn, it's more muscular than she thought. "I know you didn't. I was just—I don't remember everything. I didn't fully take it off, did I?"

"You—oh." He relaxes and shakes his head. "No, you just started undoing the buttons."

"Lucky for you, huh, perv?" Akira opens the stairwell.

"P—h-hey! I told you to stop, and you did!"

"Not helping your case," teases Akira. He glares at her, and then seems to realize that she's playing with him again.

He shakes his head. "G'night, Akira."

"Night, Amon." She winks and ducks inside before she can see his reaction.

"Things all right?" asks Kimi, examining a pair of bangles.

"Things are fine," Akira responds.

"These are for Nishiki and I," Kimi announces.

"Shared jewelry? Already?" Akira flops onto her bed.

"Why not? I love him. And he loves me."

Akira can't picture Nishiki agreeing to the bangles. No, wait, she can. She'd just rather not.

Her thoughts churn in her mind, filled with Koutarou Amon. She remembers him half-carrying her. And he still treats her with respect even after seeing her in that state. _I see why you like him so much, Dad._ And Seidou Takizawa—he tries so hard. It's endearing.

Akira's heart beats fast in her chest, and even though it's past nine and she should be getting up and getting ready for bed—she need a good eight hours at least—she stays on her bed, daydreaming.


	14. Cracking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Warning for a mention of self-harm, and for violence at the end of this chapter.

Juuzou huddles on the couch in the lounge, feet tucked under him. He whistles as he sketches and reaches for the donut Shinohara bought him. It's chocolate and covered with star-shaped sprinkles. Amon walks past, giving him a nod. Juuzou waves.

"Are you seriously finishing that picture?" comes a disgusted voice.

Juuzou cranes his neck back. _"Kurona!"_

"It's creepy, given what you did to that cat, Rei," says Kurona, crossing her arms as she heads towards the stairwell. Some things never change. She and Nashiro always look at Juuzou like he's a freak. Well, only Kuro now. Shiro got stabbed during the summer when she and Kurona snuck out of that miserable place they were all forced to stay at. Okay, maybe Juuzou taunted them to get them to leave after they called him a psychopath—but to get them in trouble, not _killed_.

"Oh," says Juuzou, slapping the sketchpad shut. "It's Juuzou now, in case you live under a rock. And is it as creepy as the way you talk to your sister, Kurona? She's dead, in case you didn't remember."

Kurona whirls around, eyes flashing. "Don't you dare talk about Nashiro."

"You talk to her enough," says Juuzou with a shrug.

Kurona's face scrunches.

 _Are you gonna cry?_ "I did always wonder," Juuzou muses, giggling as he taps his chin. "What does happen to one twin when the other dies? They go insane, apparently."

"Shut up, Rei." Kurona trembles.

"That's not my name!"

"Don't insult Nashiro's memory!"

"What does it matter?" Juuzou croons, jumping onto the arm of the couch. "She's _dead_."

"And it's your fault!" Kurona lashes out.

"You chose to leave!"

"You're a psychopath!"

"Then what are you?" Juuzou cackles, the memory of the poor cat filling his mind. His stomach churns, and he suddenly wants to hate—needs to hurt someone. "And what was Nashiro?"

Kurona lunges at him, but Juuzou's ready. He swings his arm up and grabs a fistful of her hair.

" _Stop it!"_ bellows Seidou, wrenching them apart. "What are you doing, Juuzou? You can't hit a girl!"

"I can handle myself!" Kurona screams at Seidou. Tears stream down her face.

"Go and cry to Nashiro," Juuzou taunts.

"Go and kill another cat!"

Juuzou lunges for her, but Seidou drags him back. "I said to _cut it out!"_

 _You act like you care so much about being the best and doing the right thing and excelling in school when really, you're just a hypocrite!_ Juuzou blinks up at him. "You said, _stop it."_

Seidou grasps his hair like he's going to tear it out. "Oh for—stop it!"

"What does it matter whether I stop or not?" Juuzou snaps. "You all think I killed that cat and I'm some kind of monster." _What does that make you, believing a lie?_

Seidou's shoulders slump. "I know you say you—"

"I haven't said anything to you, because it doesn't matter." Juuzou scowls and wrenches his arm away from Seidou's. He grabs his sketchpad and the remains of his donut.

"I'm out of here," says Kurona, a sob tearing from her lips as she rushes for the stairwell.

"Get back here, Yasuhisa!" Seidou hollers. "I need to—I'll tell Akira to write you up!"

"What does it matter?" Kurona asks, tilting her head back. Dark hair falls down her back. "Everyone's dead. I've got no one left to disappoint, or take care of, or—"

 _I never thought you would actually leave._ And when Juuzou found out Nashiro was dead, he was shocked. _I wish she wasn't dead._

Seidou looks as if he doesn't know what to do. His eyes dart around from Juuzou to Kurona to the door. Cringing, he takes a step forward and puts his hand on her shoulder. "Kurona—"

"I don't need _your_ help!" Kurona snarls, yanking out of his grasp and flying up the stairs.

"I didn't kill her sister," Juuzou says.

Seidou squeezes his eyes shut. "I know."

 _You actually mean that._ "She blames me anyways."

"Can you blame her?"

Juuzou storms past him. Seidou calls after him, but Juuzou doesn't bother turning around.

He throws himself over his bed and groans. Ayato's gone again. Figures.

Juuzou pries himself up, checking the time. He's got a half hour before dinner. If he can talk to Shinohara—tell him what happened, see if Shinohara blames him for what happened to Nashiro—

When he leaves his room, he sees Seidou's door open, and his RA pacing back and forth, gripping his skull. Seidou pulls one hand away to curl it in a fist. Juuzou frowns.

Seidou's fist flies out, not towards the wall, but towards his own leg. He pounds his thigh again and again. Juuzou knows how hard you have to hit to leave bruises, and Seidou will definitely have a few.

Juuzou scurries away, heart pounding. He pauses outside Shinohara's dorm. _Should I tell him?_

_No._

Shinohara's voice echoes. Dammit, he must already be talking to someone. "No leads on Kamishiro?"

 _Rize_. Juuzou never knew her well. She was out of control, according to what he's heard.

"I'm concerned," Shinohara says. "There are plenty of kids they can easily target here—if they were on campus, or in the hospital—I'm not making any accusations, Mado, I'm just saying—the beam incident is an awfully big coincidence and—"

 _Who? What?_ Juuzou's eyes widen.

He's afraid he knows exactly what they're talking about.

* * *

"Kaneki?"

He lifts his head up from the book he's reading. The light's on behind him as the sky outside darkens.

"That's not even for Lit class, is it?" Hide asks, shaking his head.

Kaneki smirks. "Nope."

"I miss you," Hide tells him, flopping onto Kaneki's bunk by his feet.

"Huh?" Kaneki shuts his book, Takatsuki's words fading. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're so secretive," Hide says. "I hardly know what you've been up to, and we're roommates, Ken."

 _You shouldn't have followed me to this place. I knew this would happen_. Kaneki swallows, dragging the sheets through his fingers. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry," laughs Hide. "I just want to hang out more. That movie night we did with the juniors was fun."

Kaneki smiles. "It was."

"We could do a movie tonight," Hide suggests. "We can see if Nishiki and Kimi want to join. There's this new superhero film I've been wanting to see."

"Yeah!" Kaneki agrees, heart pounding. _Please don't hate me, Hide_. "Let's."

"Text your girlfriend," Hide says. "And those juniors you practically baby-sit."

"Touka's not my girlfriend!"

"Because you're too shy to ask." Hide winks. Kaneki throws his pillow at him and Hide cackles. "Have you so much as held her—"

"I'll go ask the juniors!" Kaneki hollers, getting to his feet and flying towards the door.

"Coward!" teases Hide. "I'm not letting this conversation die, Ken Kaneki!"

Kaneki cringes. His chest feels strange, tight. Touka would probably gag herself at the thought of dating him. And they'd kill each other. It'd just be all wrong.

The sound of muffled curses echoes through the stairwell. Kaneki freezes when he sees Ayato crumpled on the stairs, a fistful of money in his hand.

Ayato leaps to his feet. "The fuck are you doing?"

"What are _you?"_ Kaneki squeaks. "That money—where did you get it?"

"Mind your own business!"

 _The blue skirt…_ Kaneki leaps forward, grasping Ayato's arm. Ayato cries out. "You— _Anteiku!"_

Ayato's face whitens. "What do you—"

"You're trying to protect Touka, aren't you?" Kaneki asks, letting Ayato go. _She has no idea._

" _No_ ," Ayato snarls, cheeks flushing as if he'd rather his sister hate him than anyone know he's been helping her out. Or—

The thought slams into Kaneki's stomach. "The cat—"

Ayato's eyes bug. "Do I look like a sociopath to you?"

Kaneki shakes his head. Touka's words about Ayato tumble through his mind. A chill runs through him, and Ayato's indigo hair bleeds with Rize's purple. "What do you need the money for, Ayato?"

His eyes avoid Kaneki's. "It doesn't matter."

"Fine then." Kaneki crosses his arms. "I'll just go tell your sister that—"

"You wouldn't!"

"Let me help you, Ayato." Kaneki wrings his hands. "We can go to Shinohara—Furuta—you need help, Ayato."

Ayato throws back his head and laughs. "I'm not on drugs, Kaneki."

"Huh?" Kaneki blinks.

"Nice assuming, though," Ayato spits as he turns to enter his floor. Kaneki grabs him again.

"Then what did you do, Ayato?"

Ayato swallows.

"Because you're not all right," Kaneki continues, shaking. "Touka—she's worrying herself sick over you, Ayato. She—"

"I'm just a loser to her!"

"That's not true!" Kaneki shouts. Ayato's jaw drops, and Kaneki lowers his voice. "It's not, Ayato. You're her brother. She loves you."

Ayato squeezes his eyes shut. "Someone—off campus, last year, suggested I could make some money by helping ferry—things—back and forth on and off campus."

"So, drugs."

"No. The packages seemed like they were either money or paper—like documents," Ayato says quickly. "They text me a couple times every week. They pay well."

"And so why do you need money now?" Kaneki demands. None of this makes sense. It's like a puzzle that no matter how hard he tries, he can't fit it together.

Ayato swallows and studies his scuffed boots. His hands twist his scarf. "I lost one of the packages."

"How did you _lose_ it?"

Ayato shakes his head. "I—don't know. But Jason says that—I owe him, now. And, okay, I've occasionally bought pot or vodka from him. But I don't have a problem."

"How much do you owe?" Kaneki asks.

"More than I have." Ayato gulps. "And it has to be tonight." For a moment, his mask vanishes, and he looks like a vulnerable kid, and then the mask slides back over his eyes, glassy and hard. "And I had to do it. How else am I gonna save up enough money to get the hell out of this place? Only the strong survive. We learned that in biology and if Re Academy isn't an example of natural selection I don't know what is."

"I think that's a cruel way to live," says Kaneki quietly. "What if you aren't strong?"

"Like you?" Ayato sneers.

"I didn't lose a package full of money," Kaneki points out.

Ayato glowers.

"Let me help you," Kaneki repeats. _Let me be kind._

" _How?"_

"He's a criminal," says Kaneki. "Mado's back on campus. You get a recording of him talking about dealing pot to you, and to other kids at this school—leave your phone in your pocket, say you'll get the rest of the money to him later—and you give it to Mado, he'll be thrilled."

Ayato snorts. "What, be a hero instead of the loser everyone thinks I am?"

"You're not a loser," Kaneki insists. His heart pounds. "I'll go with you, if you want." _I'll watch the movie_ — _I can slip out with Ayato during it; it won't take long—_

"You would?" Ayato's eyes widen.

Kaneki nods.

"You'll have to wear something a bit less 'rob me,'" Ayato warns, his gaze scanning Kaneki's striped t-shirt and jeans.

* * *

The earring in Ayato's ear swings back and forth as they slip out the door. Hide, Kaneki's weird friend, scowls when Kaneki follows Ayato out of the room. The superhero's in the middle of listening to a woman proclaim her love for him. Hinami peers at the screen, her chin glued to the top of her knees. Touka's in the bathroom.

The air strikes Ayato's face, surprisingly cold. He sucks in his breath and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"We'll be okay," Kaneki assures him.

_You're a fool._

Life's been nothing but cruel to Ayato, and if Kaneki's at this school, clearly it's been nothing but shitty to him too, and yet Kaneki insists on being an idiot and trying to make everything okay while keeping his hands clean. _You can't._

" _Someone gave me your name," said Naki at the end of last semester. "We have a group of students who work for us—you come highly recommended!"_

Congratulations to me, _Ayato thought._

But they give him a place to go to after a long day, ears to complain to, voices that echo his hatred of Re Academy, a job to do, and a way to earn money. Naki's been gone since the start of this semester, and Jason's far less fun to work with. Despite Naki's insistence that Jason is essentially a god, he just seems like a sadistic bastard to Ayato.

 _I can't turn him in, though._ Kaneki's suggestion is a good one, if naïve.

"Ayato! Kaneki!"

The shout echoes behind him. Ayato whirls around to see Touka charging at them.

 _Oh, hell no_. "Go away."

"Where are you off to?" Touka demands.

"Go home, dumb sister."

"Touka," Kaneki starts. "I have to help Ayato with—"

 _This is taking too much time!_ Especially with Mado back on campus. Ayato glances around at the trees pressing in around them. Shadows splatter the paved path. Leaves lie dead and crumpled under the trees. The moon glows above them, silver and cold.

"Let me help you too," Touka insists.

There's no way Ayato's bringing Touka anywhere near Jason. "No chance in hell."

"Ayato, you—"

That's it. Ayato's foot flies out, connecting with Touka's chest. She tumbles back.

"Touka!" Kaneki cries out, flying towards her.

 _So it is true_. _You do like her._ Ayato can worry about that later. He grabs Kaneki's arm. "I need—"

"You just kicked your own sister!" Kaneki gapes at him.

"Goddamn you, Ayato," Touka grunts, getting to her feet.

"Kaneki, let's go," Ayato says. _Please come. Please don't stay with her. I need you for this._

Kaneki hesitates.

"Are you really helping him?" Touka wheezes, clutching her chest.

Kaneki nods. "Not with anything—"

"I trust _you_ ," Touka snaps. "Make sure this idiot doesn't get himself killed, okay?"

Kaneki glares at Ayato. Good thing he's so pacifistic, because Kaneki looks as if he'd like to break half the bones in Ayato's body.

"Are you coming?" Ayato asks.

Kaneki mutters something unintelligible and nods. "Sorry, Touka."

"Don't be." She snorts and glares at Ayato. "Dad would be disappointed in you."

"I'm disappointed in Dad," Ayato retorts, his arms shaking. How dare she bring up their father? _He was a coward_. Ayato _wants_ to disappoint him, because anything his father could be proud of isn't worth being proud of.

He spins on his heel and stalks off. Kaneki follows, his breaths short and sharp. Ayato refuses to look at him as they make their way off the path, scurrying through the grove of trees Ayato knows so well. The oak one towers over the giant fence comprised of stone and with spiked bars on top. The bars aren't any kind of deterrent. Ayato grabs one of the lower branches, hauling himself up. The bark tears at his palms.

Kaneki follows, somewhat hesitant. "If you fall, I won't catch you," Ayato warns. Even though he basically has to.

"I won't."

Ayato swings off one of the branches, dropping on the other side of the fence. His ankle crunches. _Ouch_.

Kaneki gasps as he slams into the ground. He coughs.

"Get up," Ayato orders, yanking him up. They're on a deserted side street, lined with a bunch of shops closed for the evening and one failing restaurant. Ayato breaks into a jog, rounding the corner to the main street. Cars rush by, headlight blinding and horns blaring. Kaneki follows Ayato as he weaves his way through the Friday night crowds, ducking down an alleyway. Raucous laughter rumbles from a pub. Kaneki's eyes widen. The alley reeks of beer and pot.

Ayato climbs down a flight of stairs and pushes open the door to one of the bars, the one with a tree sign dangling and the word _Aogiri_ painted in red over it.

"Ayato," coos one of bartenders, Roma, as they enter. Every light bulb in the place glows red, adding an almost vampire-like feel to the place. Ayato thinks it's awesome. "I'll tell Yamori you're here."

 _Yamori? Is that Jason's real name? How many drinks have you had, Roma?_ "Thanks." He folds his arms. Kaneki keeps his gaze on the filthy floor, stained with wine and rum and smeared cigarette butts. Bodies grind together on a makeshift dance floor. Chairs and tables perch precariously in a corner, shoved to the side to create the illusion this place isn't narrower than Ayato's room in Dorm Block 20.

"Is your phone—" Kaneki starts.

"Everything's all set," Ayato hisses, jerking away. _Sorry. I'm not falling for your Do-Good plan._

"This way," says the waitress, leading Ayato and Kaneki through a red and gold checkered curtain to a storage room where the lighting is at least normal.

Jason rises, huge and no less repulsive than all the other times Ayato's seen him. He cracks a knuckle. "Ah. How thoughtful."

"I have about half of it," Ayato says, yanking out the money from Anteiku.

Jason chuckles. "From your coffee shop on campus? Why did you even bother when you brought him?" He nods at Kaneki.

Kaneki pales.

"I don't think you need his entire bank account," Ayato says, leaning back against a crate of wine. "I'm not planning on screwing up again."

"What?" Kaneki yelps.

"You won't tell, and we both know it," Ayato snaps. "Just give your bank card to Jason—I know you have one—and he'll take out the rest."

Kaneki clutches his pocket. "But—you—"

 _Look, it's not like I'm getting a thrill out of this!_ Ayato wants to scream. _I don't have options!_ "Don't make things difficult."

 _Pop. Pop. Pop_. Ayato hates that sound. Jason steps closer, leering down at Kaneki. "I don't think we need his bank card."

"Huh?" Ayato blinks.

"He'll do as payment."

"What?" Ayato doesn't understand. "The fuck are you—"

Jason's fist flies out, colliding with Kaneki's face. He struggles, and Jason grabs Kaneki by his neck, howling with laughter.

"Stop!" Ayato shouts, but Jason slams Kaneki's face down against one the crates. Again. And again. The wood cracks—or is it Kaneki's nose? Blood streams, and Kaneki's limp. "You can't—"

"Get out of here," advises Roma, leaning her head through the curtain, her voice a bored drawl. "I've seen him like this before. If you want to live, run."

Jason lets go of Kaneki. He falls to the floor as if unconscious, but Ayato notices his fingers twitching. "He's tough enough."

A centipede crawls across the floor towards Kaneki's face. Ayato takes a step back. _Are you—_

"Kirishima," orders Roma. " _Out_."

He doesn't remember how, but he's back outside now, and it's cold.


	15. Including You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Warning again for violence this chapter, including torture. It's not described terribly graphically, but it is there.

_I am reaching, but I fall_

_The night is closing in,_

_As I stare into the void,_

_At the whirlpool of my sin_

_"Valjean's Soliloquy," Les Misérables_

* * *

_What do I do? What do I do?_

_What have I done?_

Ayato paces around the gate. Lights flicker from the dorms on the west campus hill. A car speeds down the side street, blaring music. "Shut up, why don't you?" Ayato screams, but it's not as if they hear him. Or anything. They've got to be deaf from playing music that loud. Ayato hopes they are.

_You ran._

Kaneki was just trying to help him.

Guilt chafes at Ayato. _Now he's_ —it looked like Jason—Yamori—was going to kill him. _Does that make me a murderer?_

Ayato jumps on a dumpster and hauls himself back over the gate, crashing down beneath the oak tree. As if Kaneki hasn't had a rough enough year.

_Touka will never forgive me._

_I need to get her_ , Ayato thinks wildly. _Maybe she can help—help me come up with something—we can't leave Kaneki there._

_Protect your sister… promise…_

_Fuck you, Dad!_ Ayato digs his fists into his eyes as he storms to the dorm, his heart in his throat. _I'm definitely getting arrested for this. And sent to a penitentiary._

"Shuu?" calls a voice. Ayato turns to find Kanae emerging from the garden, like some sort of creepy zombie. "Ayato."

He doesn't remember Kanae ever speaking to him before. And he doesn't have time to deal with him now.

"Where are Shuu and Hinami?" asks Kanae, crossing his arms.

"How would I know? Aren't you your roommate's keeper?" Ayato retorts. What is Hinami doing with that idiot anyways?

"They went after Kaneki and you," Kanae snaps.

_Hinami—went after Kaneki and me?_

Horror bites into Ayato's stomach. He doubles over, fingers clutching the dirt. _If Jason sees Hinami—_

_I'm awful. I'm really awful. I should have—I ignored—I turned away from so many—_

"Where the hell are they?" screams Kanae. He yanks Ayato's face up by his hair, and in his eyes Ayato sees that if anything happens to Tsukiyama, Kanae will literally kill him.

Ayato's fist flies out, cracking against Kanae's jaw. The boy stumbles back. Ayato wrenches himself free, probably losing a fistful of hair, and flies into the dorm. _"Shinohara!"_

End credits music sings triumphantly. Everyone in the room gapes at him. Touka leaps to her feet. "Where's—"

"I need to talk to Shinohara!" Ayato runs towards the dorm parent's door, pounding on it. "Open _up!"_

"Ayato!" shouts Seidou. Kanae appears in the doorway. "What are you—"

Shinohara yanks the door open as Ayato thrusts his fist against it again. Ayato stumbles, tripping over his own feet and almost falling. Shinohara grabs his elbows, holding him upright.

Juuzou laughs, but nothing's funny. "Shut _up!"_ Ayato shouts.

"What is going on?" Shinohara demands.

"Kaneki—Tsukiyama and Hinami—Kaneki's been kidnapped and they're going to be, too!"

Silence, and then the lounge erupts into chaos. Hide gapes, Nishiki and Kimi both yell, Mutsuki and Saiko burst into tears, and Urie and Shirazu demand answers Ayato doesn't want to give, not when he feels like a worm.

Shinohara drags Ayato inside his apartment, beckoning for Seidou to join as well.

"I'm coming, too!" bellows Touka, storming inside Shinohara's apartment.

"Get _out!"_ Ayato screams at her.

"No!"

"I'm staying too," declares Kanae.

"Fine," says Shinohara. "Touka, Kanae, you can stay, but you have to be quiet. Any yelling and I will send you both back into the lounge. Seidou, call security."

"Are you sure he's—"

"I'm quite certain he's telling the truth," says Shinohara as Seidou shuts the door. Shinohara's wife appears in the background before vanishing into a bedroom. "Sit down, Ayato."

"There's no time! Hinami—and Tsukiyama—they're walking into—they have no idea what they're getting into!" I _had no idea!_

"Where?" asks Shinohara, guiding Ayato to sit down anyways.

"Aogiri Tree Bar. Jason—his name might be Yamori—had Kaneki in a backroom."

"And you escaped?" Shinohara taps a text out.

"I—" Ayato swallows.

"Shuu didn't say where they were going," says Kanae, crossing his arms. "Only that Hinami was worried and she asked if they could follow you."

"Ayato?" Shinohara prompts. They're all staring at him—Touka with her brow crunched, Kanae with his lips twisted in a sneer, Seidou in shock, and Shinohara—just waiting.

He shakes his head. "Not—not exactly. They let me go."

"Why?"

 _Dam_ mit. "Kaneki was trying to help me—I owed Jason money—" He launches into the story about ferrying documents and money on and off campus.

"Whom did you give the money to?"

"I don't know. They showed up in my mailbox, and I dropped them off in my mailbox too and someone took them away."

"So, a member of staff?" Seidou bursts out.

"Did Kaneki have money to help you?"

Ayato shakes his head, fury building in his throat, raw and steaming. "Why does it matter? Why aren't you—"

"Mado is on his way," Seidou puts in. "And he said he was calling the police."

"And I texted two staff members who happen to like going out on Friday nights," says Shinohara. "They're looking for them, right now."

 _Thank God._ Ayato slumps.

"Ayato," Shinohara tries again. "Tell me what happened." The lights from the kitchen glint against the black and white appliances, all old.

_How did you end up trapped here?_

_This is going to be a way better place than where I'll end up._

" _Ayato_."

"What do you want to hear?" snaps Ayato. "Kaneki suggested I record Jason and turn him in. I didn't want to do that—" _And now I'm doing it anyways_. "So I said fine, but I really planned on having Jason take Kaneki's bank card and paying him back that way, and then Jason—Yamori—went apeshit and beat the shit out of him and said he was payment—like he sells people or something—" He's heard that rumor before, but he never dwelled on it. Because he never wanted to hate himself.

" _Ayato!"_ Touka shouts.

He squeezes his fist, refusing to look her in the eyes. _Don't cry. Don't cry_.

"Shit," breathes Seidou. There's a knock at the door, and Seidou opens it to reveal Amon and Mado.

"Seidou, get Akira to send everyone to their rooms," orders Shinohara. "We're going on lockdown. And then please catch Akira and Koutarou up on what you've heard. Kanae, Touka, thank you, but you should go to your rooms now."

"What's going to happen?" Touka cries out.

"If you sneak out again, Akira will know," Shinohara warns her. "I can't answer that. Get upstairs. Ayato, you stay."

Ayato huddles on the red couch, his head between his knees. His fingers interlock. _I'm so fucked._

_And I kind of deserve it._

But Hinami doesn't deserve it. And if he's honest, neither does Kaneki, or hell, even Tsukiyama. _Please,_ he begs. _Please find them all._

"Ayato," says Shinohara, sitting across from him. "Look at me."

He lifts his head. Shinohara sighs. "This is very serious."

Ayato nods.

"I need you to tell me everything you know."

"I did," Ayato whispers. "I don't know—anything more. I promise."

Shinohara nods. "If you remember something else, tell us."

"I will." Ayato gulps. "I just—I just want them to be okay."

Shinohara heaves himself up and drops down next to Ayato, putting his arm around him. Ayato doesn't understand. _Why aren't you threatening me? Are you stupid?_

"I didn't _know_ Jason—did that—to people," Ayato manages. "I heard it, though." _Because of me…_

Shinohara sighs. "There are lots of things, looking back, that we think we should have known."

"But it did occur to me—I just didn't think it was important and dismissed it. I'm such an—" Ayato curls his fist. _I was weak. I didn't acknowledge what I should have—I won't be like Dad, I won't!_

"Ayato," says Shinohara. "I don't know what you were about to call yourself, but whatever it was, you're not acting like it now. You made a good choice to come for help."

"Which I shouldn't have had to if I wasn't—" Ayato grits his teeth. He hates feeling like this. He hates it, he hates it—shame burns him from the inside, conjures a reflection of his father, and God, how he hates the man but he wishes he was here, because he knows Dad wouldn't hate him even though he should. _You were weak like that._

I'm _weak_.

"The whole point of this school," says Shinohara. "Even though—certain people have forgotten it, is to prove that no matter what anyone's done, they can always make a better choice."

Ayato shakes his head. "I can't—" _handle it_ "—if they die—"

 _Please_.

* * *

"This place is creepy," Hinami remarks, pulling her cardigan tighter over her chest. She shivers as a man with a shaved head leers at her.

Tsukiyama's eyebrows fly up as he peers in a bar's window. "Dear God! Serving wine that cheap should be a crime. It's horrifying."

When Touka limped inside and muttered in Hinami's ear that Kaneki was off to help Ayato with something, Hinami sprang to her feet, texting Tsukiyama because he's the only one she trusts to go with her. Wherever they're off to, Hinami's betting Kaneki has no idea what he's getting into.

"Are you scared?" Tsukiyama asks, pulling way from the window. He wraps an arm around her as two men scream at each other.

"Yeah," Hinami says. Her heart pounds and blood rushes in her head. _Kaneki, where are you?_

She ran when her mother told her to run, and it took the cops less than two hours to find her. She can't let Kaneki venture into a part of town her parents always shielded her from, but a part the police claim they were well acquainted with.

"Is that Banjou?" Tsukiyama asks, peering around the corner of a brick building. "From the nurse's station?"

Hinami yanks Tsukiyama back by his sleeve. "We can't get caught!"

"Eh, what's the worst he can do?" Tsukiyama drawls.

 _Why did I ask you to come again_?

"Running from your teachers?" asks a short woman with a hairstyle straight out of Whoville. She crosses her arms, leaning against the bricks and lighting a cigarette.

"Um—" Hinami stammers.

"Don't tell," says Tsukiyama, winking.

She laughs, blowing out the smoke. "I won't. But you should get out of here. One of the students ran away from the Aogiri Tree without the friend he came down here with."

"What?" Hinami steps forward. "Which—who? What did they look like?"

"I know Ayato Kirishima," says the woman. "He's a good kid at heart, even if he doesn't believe it himself. He ran. His friend—"

Tsukiyama cringes. "It _must_ be Kaneki. Poor—"

"Poor is right," says the woman, pressing her lips together. "Yamori's not the kind of person you want to cross. He's cruel."

"Where is the Aogiri Tree?" Hinami demands.

"You'll get eaten alive in there, sweetheart." The woman crushes her cigarette under her boot. "In his current mood, Yamori will sell you."

Hinami's stomach feels as if someone just dropped a block of ice into it. _Like what they say Mom and Dad were involved in?_

"No one's doing that," Tsukiyama snaps.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me where it is!" shouts Hinami. "I don't care—I don't—I'm not leaving Kaneki there!" _Not like I left Mom._

 _I want to be with you again. Both of you. I don't want to be here anymore._ She cranes her neck so far back it hurts. The moon shines down.

The woman regards them both. "I can get you in the back entrance. That's where you're likely to find your friend. But I can't promise I can get you out."

"Well," says Tsukiyama. "That's all part of the excitement, right?"

 _Oh, we're getting out._ Hinami squares her shoulders. "Take us there."

"I like you both." The woman smiles. "I'm Miza Kusakari."

"Our names are irrelevant," Hinami cuts in before Tsukiyama can open his mouth.

Miza laughs. "I knew I liked you. Smart thinking, little one."

 _You're one to talk_. Still, Tsukiyama pats Hinami on her head. She kicks him in the calf and he yelps.

Miza leads them out onto the main street and its mass of drunken, high people. Tsukiyama gapes at it all, practically salivating. Hinami keeps her gaze on Miza and her weird salmon-colored hair, refusing to look at anyone else. She has to get Kaneki.

_Ayato, you left him? Why?_

"How do you know Ayato?" asks Hinami.

Miza glances over her shoulder. "He works for Naki, except Naki's out of town, so now he works for Yamori."

"Drugs?" Hinami guesses.

"Nope." Miza shakes her head. "He looked terrified tonight. Poor kid."

Well, that at least makes Hinami feel a little bit better. She could still let Touka beat him up without batting an eyebrow.

"This way," says Miza, ducking down an alley. Tsukiyama scowls as they leave the bustling street. "You probably don't have much time."

* * *

_Am I dead?_

He's in too much pain. _Am I alive?_

His fingers feel like they've all been broken. His toes. His skull feels like someone used it as a bowling ball, and he can barely crack his eyes open. Kaneki's breaths come gurgled. His ribs throb. Something sticky rests on his face.

"You can't kill him, Yamori, he's no good to us dead," complains a voice.

_Count backwards from 1000._

_Was that real? Or just a memory?_

A hand grabs his broken fingers. Pain explodes, white and hot. A scream tears from Kaneki's lips.

"He won't run away," says the same voice that orders him to count. Kaneki flinches."I want to see how much he can take."

_Where am I?_

_Ayato—why?_

His chest tightens, and for a moment Kaneki thinks Yamori's sitting on it, he's decided to crush Kaneki's lungs and heart, but no, nothing's there. _I'm crazy._

He remembers Rize laughing with him—or at him? _Why?_

_You've always been a joke._

" _It's okay," Mom said. "It's better to be hurt."_

 _Hurt like this?_ Yamori grabs his broken hand again. Kaneki cries out. More memories twist in his mind—his aunt—his mom—Hide—Rize—Touka—something creaking—the bitter, salted taste of blood—

He hacks, lungs burning. Blood streams from his nose.

_It's better to be hurt._

_Like this?_ His thoughts churn in circles. Everything spins—the ceiling, stained and pitted, his mind, his stomach. He could vomit, but if he does, he'll choke on it. He knows it. _I want to breathe—I'm scared!_

_Mom, come help me!_

But she's dead. She took the easy way out, working until she had a heart attack. Lucky her.

And even when she lived, she never came. Her sister mattered more. Her work mattered more. Before Hide, when kids mocked him at school for getting the best grades, Kaneki remembers crying in his room, louder and louder because he hoped and hoped his mom would hear, would come. Teacups clanked in the kitchen. She must have heard.

But she never came, and Kaneki read himself to sleep instead.

"He could fetch a good price, Yamori _—_ if your beating kills him _—"_

"It won't."

His cheek burns, and Kaneki's not sure if Yamori slapped him, or if he's just remembering his aunt's blows. The aunt who killed his mother with her demands.

 _I hate you, you bitch_.

Something hisses nearby. Inside him, his words burn. He twitches. A knuckle cracks. Not his.

"How about I drop this in your ear?"

Kaneki roves the one eye he can open to his left. Something black— _a worm?—_ writhes between fat fingers.

Legs. _A centipede._

"No!" Kaneki screams, and even though his fingers feel bloated and useless, he slaps at it, trying to force it away. _You won't, will you?_

Yamori laughs. His free hand lands on Kaneki's stomach, pinning him down. _He will._

_He absolutely will._

_This world is—cruel. Because people are cruel._

_Including you, you bitch._

Kaneki's foot flies out, kicking Yamori in the side. He grunts. The centipede flies through the air and Yamori's arm lifts, his hand's gone, and Kaneki's screaming, flapping his useless hand around, kicking. His toe lands against Yamori's eye and he tears at it. _Let me go!_

Howling, Yamori tumbles back. Blood pours through his fingers and Kaneki leaps to his feet. He stumbles but doesn't fall. One foot he can't put weight on without screaming; one he can. He staggers towards the door, screaming.

_No one will come._

"Kaneki!" shrieks a voice.

 _Huh?_ He turns around.

"Oh, shit."

Kaneki squints. _Hinami? Tsukiyama?_ They both gape at him.

Yamori barrels out of the door. Tsukiyama throws a fist, and Yamori pulls out something that glints.

_A knife._

"No!" Kaneki throws himself against Yamori. The knife wobbles in his grasp, and Kaneki grabs it.

"Stop!" screams Hinami. Blood streams down Kaneki's arm. The knife scrapes against the bones in his hand.

A flash of purple. Tsukiyama tackles Yamori, yanking him away. The knife's now in Kaneki's hands. And Yamori throws Tsukiyama back against the wall, cursing him with a foul name. He cracks a knuckle.

_Count backwards._

_Pain_.

And cracking knuckles before. Cracking the bone after. Kaneki flies at Yamori, driving the knife into his shoulder. He tries to yank it out, his blood and Yamori's blood mingling, because he needs to stab again— _you—you—_

"We need to get out of here!" yells Hinami, her arms grabbing his waist.

 _I just stabbed a man_. Horror seeps into Kaneki. _I'm a murderer._ Yamori groans. _Or I will be—and I want to, want to do it—_ "You go!" he screams.

"I'm not leaving you here alone! You don't have to do everything alone!" Hinami grips him, trying to pull him with her even though she's so much shorter.

Tsukiyama kicks Yamori in the face. "Kaneki—"

He knows he's covered in blood, broken, one hand useless, the other bloodied, his clothes stained. "We—"

Yamori climbs back to his feet, yanking the knife out of his shoulder. And then there's a clunk, and Yamori groans. He slumps to the ground.

Yomo, their biology teacher, stands behind him wielding a baseball bat.

"I'll get Hinami and Shuu," says a voice behind them. Kaneki turns to see Uta eyeing them with his eyebrows raised. "Get Ken, Yomo."

"Get?" asks Tsukiyama, prying himself away from the wall. Sirens scream outside.

"Yeah," says Uta. "You all look like you're in need of a trip to the nurse's station."

Hinami bursts into tears. Uta's face dissolves into sheer terror. He beckons for Tsukiyama to follow.

 _You came for me_? Kaneki gapes at them all.

"Don't try to walk," Yomo says, appearing behind him. "Put your arm around me, Ken."

He hesitates.

"Don't do that," Yomo says. "You're safe, okay?"

 _I'm not_. Kaneki remembers the centipede writhing. He shakes his head.

"Come on." Yomo reaches out, and Kaneki obeys because he doesn't have another choice other than to let Yomo carry him outside. "Ayato told us where to find you," Yomo adds.

"He did?" Hinami asks.

"Yeah," Uta confirms.

The air's cold against Kaneki's skin. He shudders, teeth chattering. An ambulance waits for him, and he's so, so sick of ambulances, of help, of blood, of this.


	16. Missing Destinations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! No real warnings this chapter, though we are dealing with the fallout from last chapter's events.

"Get better soon, Kaneki," Touka whispers as she leaves the nurse's station. He's been released from the hospital, but Akira says he won't be back in the dorm for a few days. Touka doubts Kaneki's really asleep, but she doesn't want to push it.

"I can't believe this," Hide says blankly. "He couldn't—he didn't deserve—"

"No one would," Touka says. "Except for Yamori himself." Rage fills her. "Kaneki deserves this less than anybody I've ever met." _If I'd only gone with them—or known where they were off to—I'd have killed him._

Hide nods.

Akira and Amon are silent as they walk them back to the dorm. The sky lightens with sunrise, but Touka's never welcomed the sun less. Poor Hinami was sobbing in their room, Yoriko trying to comfort her. Even Tsukiyama looked paler than Touka's ever seen him, stumbling up the stairs.

"Get some sleep," Akira tells her when they get back to the dorm, but Touka snorts. She can't, not yet. Touka marches to Shinohara's door, knocking.

Shinohara pulls it open, eyes bloodshot and encircled with shadows. Clearly he hasn't slept either. "Is my—"

"He's here," Shinohara confirms, stepping back to let her in. Amon nods and guides Hide and Akira towards the stairwell. Shinohara shuts the door, and Touka blinks when she recognizes Yomo leaning against the kitchen counter. The smell of coffee makes Touka's stomach rumble.

Ayato's curled up on the red couch, a black blanket over him. _At least you get to sleep, you idiot_.

"Touka," Shinohara tries. "He's told me everything he knows. If it weren't for him, Hinami, Shuu, and Ken would have all—"

"If it weren't for him, they would never have been in that position in the first place," Touka ekes out.

Ayato stirs as Yomo hands Touka a cup of coffee. Black, the way she likes it. Her stupid brother sits up, blanket falling off. His eyes widen when he sees her and Yomo both staring at him.

"Kaneki's back from the hospital, if you care," Touka blurts out. Her chest heaves. _How could you?_

Ayato nods, his gaze flicking to Shinohara. His face drops, and he pulls the blanket around himself, and for a moment Touka remembers the "camping trips" they used to have in the main room of their apartment, where Dad would read them stories until the wee hours of the morning and Touka and Ayato would sleep on the carpet under their skylight window.

He looks younger right now than he has in years. "Is Hinami—"

"She and Tsukiyama are both okay," Touka cuts in. "Hinami's pretty upset, though. She saw an awful lot. But I suppose you think that's weakness, to be upset—"

"I don't!"

"Well, that's good," Yomo says, his hand clamping down on Touka's shoulder as if to say _enough_. "We're not exactly pleased, Ayato."

"I figured that much out."

"Now's not the time to be a smart-ass."

Ayato clamps his mouth shut. His shoulders hunch. "I'm _sorry."_

"I'm glad to hear it," Yomo says.

Ayato wipes at his eyes.

_Are you actually crying?_

_Touka, you have to teach your brother._

She remembers Kaneki telling her that while he didn't think she was doing the right thing, he understood how she felt.

Touka heaves a sigh and crosses the room to sit next to her brother. She offers him her coffee cup, and he accepts it. She glances up and sees a small smile on Yomo's face.

"Am I going to jail?" Ayato asks.

"No," says Shinohara, and Ayato's jaw drops.

 _You really thought that?_ Touka wonders.

"You're a child who's been manipulated," Yomo says. Ayato scowls at the word _child_. "Wanna fight me on that? Say you knew what you were doing?"

Ayato drops his head. "No," he mutters.

"Good."

"Mado?" Shinohara answers his phone and ducks into another room. Yomo hands Touka a new cup of coffee. Ayato furiously blinks his eyes, but he doesn't complain about her presence.

"Well," Shinohara announces as he strides back into the room. "They've arrested a staff member on suspicion of involvement. It seems security cameras caught him breaking into your mailbox, Ayato."

"Who?" Touka demands. Ayato looks hopeful.

"Kuzen Yoshimura."

* * *

"That doesn't make any sense!" Saiko cries out. "He's always been so nice."

"I don't get it, either," says Mutsuki, huddling with his knees against his chest.

"I can't believe any of this happened," Shirazu says, running his hand over his buzz cut. "Kaneki's got to be in rough shape. Why on earth did that guy torture him?"

"Some people are just sadists," Urie cuts in. He watches as Saiko types. "Texting Hsiao?"

"She says Aura's friend, Higemaru, says that Eto recommended they check footage for video of Yoshimura," Saiko reads. "So—they have proof." Her phone drops to her lap. "He really did do it."

"How did Eto know?" demands Shirazu.

"I'll ask," Saiko says, typing into her phone. Mutsuki rests his chin on top of his knees. The sweatshirt he's wearing looks nice. Green, like his hair. But he looks too thin. Urie makes a note to give Mutsuki some chocolate later. He should eat more. "She says Higemaru says Eto said she's suspected him for a long time."

"Of _what_?" Urie asks.

Saiko shrugs. "I think we'll find out."

 _Maybe, maybe not_. Urie glances at the clock and swears, getting to his feet.

"Are you okay?" asks Mutsuki.

"I have to meet with Matsuri Washuu," Urie admits.

Mutsuki's eyebrows fly up. "Over—the chemistry incident?"

"I presume."

"I'll go with you," says Mutsuki, jumping to his feet. "I'm sure he'll want to talk to both of us. I'm just as responsible for what happened."

Urie smirks, leaning against the doorjamb. _Damn you, Saiko and Shirazu! Go away!_ "We both know that's not really true."

Saiko howls with laughter. "We _all_ know that."

Mutsuki gulps. "Still. If there's any sort of blame, I should be—"

"No," Urie cuts in. "He went out on a limb to get me permission to use the lab." He raises his hand. "See you later."

Mutsuki nods. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Urie yanks his jacket collar up to cover his mouth. He ducks out the door, stomach squirming. _No_.

_Goddammit._

He really doesn't care what the principal says to him. Mutsuki wished him _good luck_ , offered to help him. Just like Saturday, when he comforted Urie instead of doing what Urie would have done had someone said the same cruel things to him: clocked them in the nose. And he doesn't see himself as stronger than Urie.

_It's painful being alone._

_You shouldn't have to feel that way, Mutsuki,_ Urie thinks as he trudges across campus. Pockets of students gather, whispering, no doubt about Yoshimura and Kaneki. Urie's not a fan of Kaneki's, but damn, he feels sorry for him now.

He reaches the main office building, ducking inside. His shoes clop against the polished tile floors. Furuta waves at him as he ducks inside his own office. Urie's betting they'll make Hinami and Tsukiyama go for extra sessions. The latter's beyond help though, a disaster in the making.

"Kuki!" Principal Washuu greets him.

"Principal," Urie says, nodding with respect.

"Take a seat." He taps the chair across from the desk, taking his own seat. "You may call me Matsuri."

 _Huh?_ Shinohara won't even let them call him Yukinori. "Um—"

Matsuri's phone rings. "Hold on a minute." He picks it up and curses.

_What the hell? Am I in the twilight zone?_

"Yes, I'll be home late tonight," Matsuri snaps, twisting his wedding ring around and around on his finger. "We have a crisis here, in case the news hasn't informed you already."

 _It's on the news? Wow_.

"Call you later." Matsuri hangs up.

 _Maybe you and your wife should see Furuta_ , Urie thinks. "About the chemistry incident, I take full responsibility. Tooru Mutsuki was following my orders—"

"Kuki, that could happen to anyone." Matsuri shakes his head. "It's not an issue."

 _Oh_. Urie blinks. "Then what is—"

"This about?" Matsuri finishes with a snort. "See, this is exactly what I like about you, Urie. You're direct. You set goals and work towards them. That's what a successful person needs."

Urie nods.

"I might be able to help you out," says Matsuri. "I understand you want to get into a prestigious school."

"Oh. Um, yes. I do." Urie has no idea where this is going, but Matsuri's sweating despite the chill in the air. _You're acting weird, aren't you?_ He leans forwards.

"I think you could be an excellent RA next year," says Matsuri.

"Seidou says he thinks Shirazu should apply," Urie admits.

"That doesn't mean you can't as well." Matsuri smiles at him, revealing his teeth and a large wedge of broccoli stuck between them. "You're hardworking and responsible. I trust that you'd come to me if there are any problems with your fellow students."

"Are you asking me to report on my peers?" Urie asks.

Matsuri frowns. "No. I'm just asking you to watch out for them."

 _You are an idiot_. But that's good for Urie. He can easily win Matsuri to his side, get him to write recommendations, pull strings. "I'd be happy to."

"I'm glad to hear it," Matsuri says. "Especially Ken Kaneki. Given what happened, he might need an extra eye on him, in addition to Amon's and Takizawa's."

"Of course," says Urie. _Report on Kaneki? What? That he read seven books this week instead of nine?_

"Wonderful." Matsuri gets to his feet. His hand caresses Urie's shoulder. "I've got a good feeling about you. You'll—you're the kind of man destined to go places, Urie."

 _Better places that you,_ Urie thinks as Matsuri's hand digs in, massaging the tight muscles. His stomach drops. _So that's what this is about._

 _It's fine,_ Urie tells himself as he gets to his feet and offers Matsuri his hand. Matsuri draws him in for a hug instead. He hugs back, because he knows he can use it to his advantage. _And you're never getting further than this._

* * *

_It's so quiet._

Something rustles to Kaneki's left. His mind feels hazy, and his legs stiff. His hand, too—he tries to crack his knuckle—it's throbbing—but he can't.

Panic shoves its way down his throat. He cries out.

"Kaneki," says a voice. "It's okay. You're safe."

 _Huh?_ Kaneki squints. A light shines in his eyes. Paintings of waterfalls rest against the pale blue wall.

"Do you know where you are?" asks the voice.

"N-no." He remembers Yomo—Uta—the doctors at the hospital. Hinami, and Tsukiyama, of all people.

"You're in the nurse's station. In a private room," says the voice. Kaneki peers to his left to see a man with white hair and small glasses regarding him. _The Dean. Arima._ "You're safe. They arrested Yamori."

 _Yamori._ Kaneki's stomach flip-flops. "What—day is it?" he rasps.

"It's just Saturday. They gave you some heavy-duty painkillers that knocked you out," Arima says.

Kaneki's eyes burn. "Are—"

"Your friends are all fine." Arima move to the side and returns with a card, a bouquet of roses, and what looks like a jar of caviar. "Hide and Touka stopped by this morning. Hinami bought you some flowers. Shuu—" Arima's nose wrinkles as he stares at the jar.

Kaneki almost smiles.

"I'm told Tooru Mutsuki, Kuki Urie, Saiko Yonebayashi, and Ginshi Shirazu also stopped by, as did your RA." Arima sighs. "They're all relieved you're okay."

"Ayato," Kaneki says. "Is he—"

"He confessed and asked Shinohara to help you."

"What's going to happen to him?" Kaneki asks.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Arima says.

"Why not?"

A strange look crosses Arima's face. "I think you should worry about getting better."

Kaneki tries to move his hand again and cringes.

"Are you in pain?"

He shakes his head. All his bones feel fuzzy. "What—"

"You have several broken fingers and toes, a rib, and one hand is broken too. There's also a laceration on your hand, and a concussion."

 _Why did he attack me?_ Kaneki closes his eyes. _Who else is waiting to hurt kids like us?  
_

_Ayato can't be the only kid recruited to work for them._

_They were going to sell me. But first Yamori wanted to hurt me for no reason._

"Kaneki, you'll be in the station for the rest of the week, and after that—"

"Do I get to go back to the dorm?"

"Yes. But we're going to have daily sessions when your health's improved."

 _Daily? How messed up do you think I am?_ Kaneki's throat tightens. "In addition to seeing Furuta?"

"This is beyond Furuta's expertise," says Arima. "Kaneki—I will say this as many times as I need to remind you. What happened out there was not your fault. You didn't decide for any of this to happen."

Kaneki swallows. "Okay." _Does it even matter?_

Arima sighs. "We have a lot of work to do."

Shock jabs Kaneki. _Isn't that what you shouldn't be saying?_

"If you'd like me to call your friends, I can do so. If you'd rather not see them, you don't have to."

"What do you think I should do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"If they want to see me," Kaneki says. "Call them."

"Okay." A nurse comes in—Banjou, who's been kind. He nods at Kaneki, reaching down to help him sit up. Kaneki sucks in his breath at the sight of his bandaged feet, his hand covered in a cast.

"Don't worry," assures Banjou. "You'll be dancing by the time the winter dance comes around, and Itori still plans on making you rehearse when you're back in class." He clucks his tongue. "Terrible thing."

Arima raises his eyebrows but politely looks away as a surge of nausea washes over Kaneki, and he retches. Banjou holds his hair. His stomach throbs.

"I'll get you some anti-nausea medicine," Banjou says. "You're on some serious painkillers."

 _Again_. Rize's laugh haunts him. "Arima?" Kaneki whispers.

"Yes?" Arima peers down at him.

"Ayato said he was delivering packages on campus—"

"He told us," Arima cuts in. "And Mado's made an arrest."

 _Already?_ "Who is it?"

Arima purses his lips. "Kuzen Yoshimura."

 _What?_ Terror scrabbles at him. Kaneki shakes his head. "He—he couldn't—he's nothing like—he wouldn't work with Yamori. I know him."

"Well," says Arima. "They have video evidence."

Kaneki clamps his mouth shut. _Is everyone a monster? Why? Why? Can't anyone escape this world without being cruel_?

_Or can you even survive in a world so cruel without being cruel yourself?_

_If they want to live, can I blame them?_

_What made you do it, Yoshimura?_

And then he remembers Touka, and how she views Yoshimura as a father, and Kaneki could vomit. _No_.

He remembers lonely nights, when Mom was too tired and he sat in his room alone, reading his father's books even though he was too young to properly understand them. _I'm so sorry, Touka._ Tears slip from his eyes.

When Arima sends Hide, Hinami, and Touka in, Kaneki pretends to be asleep.

* * *

"What's wrong, Hinami?"

Hinami lifts her face, wiping at her eyes as she marches back from the security gate. Her literature teacher, Eto, stands before her, teal hair spiraling out wild and unbrushed. Drizzle still falls from the sky, but the clouds tear and break above, sunlight starting to drain down.

"It's okay," Eto says. "I heard about what happened. What you did. That was brave of you, you know."

Hinami swallows. "I was trying to get a pass to leave campus."

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Eto says soothingly, jumping over a puddle almost like a ballet dancer.

Hinami almost smiles. "I just wanted to get Kaneki a book to read while he's stuck in the nurse's station."

"Ah." Eto adjusts her jumper. "He's been tutoring you, hasn't he?"

Hinami's face flushes.

"Don't be ashamed of that. He's kind," Eto says. "And I might add, Hinami, you've improved _so much_ in such a short period of time. The seniors have already started _Les Misérables,_ and you'll start within the next month, too. I think you'll really like it, and I'm not even sure you'll need much tutoring."

"Thank you," Hinami says. The rain seems to have stopped.

"What book did you want to get?" asks Eto, peering at her. "I can get it for him. I shouldn't have a problem leaving campus."

"You would?" exclaims Hinami. Hope flutters. She's not used to kindness from her teachers or any staff besides Shinohara and Yoshimura. A knife twists in Hinami's stomach as she remembers.

_You couldn't have done it. I don't believe that._

Another voice cackles. _You didn't believe it about your parents, either._

_Maybe you're just blind._

"Of course, of course!" Eto cries, flapping her arms. "What book would you like?"

"Um—" Hinami's mind whirls. "He likes Takatsuki's books—maybe the short story collection? I know he's read it, but I don't know if he owns it."

"Really?" Eto's eyes widen. She digs through her canvas bag, humming under her breath. Hinami pulls out her wallet. "No need for that."

"Huh?" Hinami doesn't understand.

"See?" Eto pulls out a brand new copy of the book. "This one, right?"

"But—it's yours," Hinami protests.

"Hinami, dear, let me show you something," Eto says, stepping closer. She pulls open the canvas bag. Hinami's eyes bug. _So many books!_ _And they're all Takatsuki's—and they're all brand new!_ "You can't tell anyone, though," Eto adds, holding her finger to her lips.

Hinami can't breathe, but for once, it's not because she's afraid. "You're—"

"Yes," Eto confirms. "I wrote these books." She pulls a pen out from behind her ear. "And I have a book signing a half hour from here today. I am thrilled to hear one of my students enjoys them."

"He _loves_ them," Hinami insists.

"Well then," Eto says, uncapping the pen with her teeth. _For Ken Kaneki, with love, Sen Takatsuki_ , she scrawls, adding a small sketch of a very cute owl. Hinami giggles. "Please give it to him, and keep my secret, Hinami." Eto thrusts the book into her hand.

"I will," Hinami promises. _I can't believe Sen Takatsuki's our literature teacher_! "Thank you, Eto. This will help Kaneki."

"I hope so," Eto says. "But I wouldn't count on it."

Hinami freezes. "What do you mean?"

"Hinami, dear, you're so cheerful, and you're so hopeful. You've been loved growing up, I can tell."

 _Mom and Dad…_ Hinami can almost taste the hot cocoa Mom would make, feel the crayons in her hand as she colored yet another picture for Dad to gush over. _But they're gone now._

"Kaneki just wants to be loved," Eto adds, tapping her chin. "Someone can show him that. It just might not be you. But the book is a very kind gesture." She straightens, waving her arm. "See you later, Hinami!"

Hinami stares at the book in her hand. _I can't help Kaneki?_

When she visits, he's asleep. _You're not,_ Hinami thinks, but she leaves the book anyways.

* * *

"Touka hates me," Kaneki whispers.

"What makes you think that?" Arima questions.

Five days after the incident, Kaneki's all caught up on schoolwork. Banjou's helped him get out of bed, hobbling around on his feet with broken toes. But he hasn't been sleeping at night, and he knows the shadows must haunt his face. Plus Banjou will have told Arima about the nightmares.

"She loves Yoshimura," Kaneki croaks out. _I do, too._ "She'll never—I'll never—"

"You'll never what?" Arima prompts.

" _Understand."_ Kaneki wants desperately to crack his knuckles. Anything to snap the tension building and building, cramming itself in his hands. _Why would you do this? Was it all an act? Did you care about me? About Touka?_

How is he ever going to show his face outside? How many more people are like Rize, like Yoshimura? "Is the evidence pretty solid?"

"It's enough to warrant an arrest," says Arima.

Kaneki frowns.

"If you want to ask him why," says Arima. "You can."

"I can?"

"You could write to him," suggests Arima. "They can receive letters in prison. I can't guarantee a response, of course, but—"

"I'd be allowed to?"

"I can make a recommendation that it's key to your recovery," says Arima.

"Is it?"

"Truth is always important to recovery, Kaneki." Arima almost smiles, but sadly. "Of course, we may never get the full truth, and have to make our peace with what we _do_ know, little though it may be."

Another voice laughs in his mind. "Arima?"

"Yes?"

"Is there any news on Rize?"

"What makes you ask?" It's one of those things Arima does, Kaneki's noticed. He never asks _why_. He asks _what_ or _how_. Kaneki makes a mental note to adopt that strategy in his letter to Yoshimura.

"I was thinking—Yamori—he mentioned selling people." _And it's all so familiar._ "Did she really run away?"

"She's listed as missing."

"So was she trafficked?" Kaneki demands.

Arima sighs. "We don't know."

"What do you think?" Kaneki presses.

Arima raises his eyebrows. "It's possible. We _are_ working with law enforcement to find her, Kaneki. I assure you."

"We have to," Kaneki says. "Then—"

"There are limits to what we can do," Arima cuts in. "But we will exhaust every opportunity. I promise you that."

"What if that's not enough?" Kaneki wants to gag. Tears claw at his eyes.

"Then it's not enough. You're not in control, Kaneki, of anyone except for yourself." Arima pinches his briefcase. "That's a lesson I'm still learning, myself."

"Huh?"

"We never fully arrive," Arima informs him. "We can only make steps forward, because we at least, then, might be able to see a destination."


	17. It's All the Same to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kind of a quieter chapter today.

"Ken Kaneki!" Eto chirps. "Welcome back!"

Touka turns around at her desk to see Kaneki limping into the literature classroom, Tsukiyama— _why him?_ —carrying Kaneki's books for him.

Every time she's gone to visit Kaneki, he's been asleep. Or faking it, as Hinami speculated. Touka rubs her aching neck. Last night, she went to Irimi's, and she and Koma made Touka some coffee and let her vent.

" _Give him time," Irimi advised._

She needs to. But she also misses Kaneki. _You're my friend._

_And Yoshimura…_

" _They said he has a record for dealing drugs, for manslaughter," Touka said, scraping her fork against her plate. "On the news."_

" _That's true," Koma confirms._

" _But how?" Touka cried out._

" _People change," Koma says. "Or they try to. But there's always a part of you that is the same person, because you can never erase what you've done. Only make a new way forward, as much as the world will let you."_

The world won't let us _. Touka gritted her teeth. She could have punched Koma._

Kaneki takes a seat, his gaze downwards because of course he knows every student here has some idea of what happened. Touka hates Re and its fucking gossips. _The world wants to eat us alive; why do we have to eat each other?_

 _Survival of the fittest._ It comes in Ayato's voice in her mind.

"I see you've kept up with your work on _Les Misérables,"_ Eto adds, flitting over to his desk. "Good job."

Kaneki nods and squirms in his chair.

"Now try to stay out of the hospital for the rest of the year," Eto adds with a laugh. She prances up to the front of the classroom.

 _He's only sitting there because it's the closest desk to the exit_ , Touka tells herself.

But he won't so much as look back at her. _Fine then!_ Touka yanks out her notebook. Too bad literature is her worst subject, because concentrating on a good day is hopeless. Today, she's lost. At least Yoriko's frantically scribbling notes. Touka can borrow them later.

During lunch, Kaneki sits with Tsukiyama. Touka clutches her tray and feels someone tap her on the shoulder.

 _Hide_. Touka's eyes widen. "What—"

"Want to eat lunch together?" Hide holds his hands up. "Not as anything weird. Promise. I want to talk about—our mutual friend."

"Go," Yoriko calls to her, adding stew to her bowl.

"Okay." Touka nods. As they leave, she sees Takeomi take a seat across from Yoriko, next to Hinami.

Hide leads Touka to the corner of the cafeteria, where they sit at one of the smallest tables. All of the tables and stools are blazing white, a poor choice for a place where food is consumed, at least in Touka's opinion. "Will he talk to you?"

Hide shakes his head. "It's only been a week. Furuta says I should give him time."

"Does that make you the first and only person to listen to something Furuta says?" Touka asks.

Hide snorts as he reaches for some of his fish. "I don't know. I'm worried about him."

"Me too," Touka says. "I wonder if—he blames me. Because of Ayato." And Yoshimura— _does he believe Yoshimura's guilty?_

He can't be guilty. Not matter what the news or Koma or Irimi say about Yoshimura's past. _You changed. You did. I have to believe that._

"I doubt it," Hide says, gulping some milk. "He's just—he got back last night, and he pretended to be asleep when Nishiki and I were there. We're both worried. But he seemed to have a good talk with Tsukiyama in the bathroom, because apparently they're buds now."

Touka shakes her head.

"I think he'll work it out," Hide says. "He just needs time. Knowing Kaneki, he's probably more worried that you hate him for some reason. He wouldn't want to hurt you."

Touka grits her teeth. _Well, maybe I don't mind being hurt by him. And if this is his idea of not hurting me, he has no idea what he's doing._

"He talked to your brother last night," Hide continues. "So I really don't think he holds any kind of grudge."

"Ayato?" Touka straightens, almost choking on a piece of potato in her stew. She leans over, coughing into her arm.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. But—he talked to Ayato?"

"He said he didn't hold it against him," Hide confirms. "Ayato seemed shocked."

 _Touka's_ shocked. She sets her spoon down with a clatter.

"Amon couldn't even speak, he was so surprised," Hide recalls with a smirk. "I think he blames himself. Our RA."

"Kaneki blames himself, doesn't he?" asks Touka. _You're giving Ayato a pass while putting it all on yourself, aren't you, you idiot?_

"Kaneki always blames himself," Hide admits.

* * *

Why Kaneki's suddenly hanging around with him, Kanae, and Chie, Tsukiyama has no idea, but he's not exactly turning him down. Maybe acting like a hero for once paid off. Not that Tsukiyama has a lot of experience acting selflessly. Or that it's really selfless if you risk your life with the hope that you might get some as a reward.

"Kanae, are you with us?" Eto asks.

Tsukiyama straightens at his desk. _Les Misérables_ lays on it. The story's better in the original French, but only he and Kanae can read that.

"Of course," Kanae says, blinking rapidly.

"Can you answer my question?"

Kanae flushes. "Can you remind me what it was?"

Eto taps the whiteboard, where several key quotes are scrawled. She points to a specific one. _Love has no middle term; either it destroys, or it saves. All human destiny is this dilemma. This dilemma, destruction or salvation, no fate proposes more inexorably than love. Love is life, if it is not death. Cradle; coffin, too. The same sentiment says yes and no in the human heart. Of all the things God has made, the human heart is the one that sheds most light, and alas! most night._ "Expound, please."

Kanae grits his teeth. "Love can cause great good or great evil. It can save you or destroy you." His voice softens, and Tsukiyama wonders if he's thinking of his family. He's heard the story, about how Kanae's father threw himself at an intruder to save his family, how Kanae's mother was cut down, and how the intruder finally killed Kanae's brothers while they helped him, the youngest, escape.

 _But that's not destruction,_ Tsukiyama thinks. _They died so you could live. That's shedding light, not night._

"Indeed. Tell me, Kanae, do you believe in God?"

Kanae shifts and doesn't answer. He chews his lip.

"Some religions say God is love. The same belief systems then sometimes then pair love with judgement." Eto launches into talking about Javert and Valjean again, and Tsukiyama focuses on Kaneki, who listens carefully.

During drama, Tsukiyama spots Hinami and calls out to her. "Hey!"

She spins around and beams up at him. "Flower Man!"

"We were analyzing quotes in literature today," Tsukiyama informs her. "There's one from Éponine, where someone says to her: 'God will bless you; you are an angel since you take care of the flowers.'"

Hinami giggles. Ayato slips into the classroom, head down.

"And she says 'No, I am the devil, but that's all the same to me.'" He winks at her. "Which are you, Flower Girl?"

"Neither," Hinami says, looking past Tsukiyama to Kanae, who smiles at her. "And both."

Kaneki hobbles in and heads over to them, sitting next to Chie. Kanae ducks down to re-tie his shoes.

"Hey, Kaneki," says Shirazu, leaning over the backs of the chairs in front of them. Kaneki nods but doesn't greet them. Saiko's face falls.

"All right!" Itori marches onto stage, clapping her hands to get them to settle down. "I have news. I spoke to Principal Washuu about inviting the community to our plays this year, and he said—"

"No," mumbles Kanae under his breath.

"No," Itori confirms. Chie lets out a cry of disappointment. Tsukiyama scowls. "But don't be disappointed."

"We're all relieved," mutters Shirazu.

"Speak for yourself," Tsukiyama hisses from behind him, and Shirazu flinches.

"It's too bad, I did hope we would be given the chance to shock the world," Itori tells them. "But don't underestimate what you can do or whom your performance can touch, both inside the walls of this school, and within yourselves."

"Here, here," Tsukiyama says, thrusting his fist into the air.

Itori grins at him. "And today, we begin with 'Master of the House.' The rest of you who aren't needed in this scene: Aki Fura will be coming by to take your measurements for your costumes. During the second half we'll be doing 'Red and Black,' so don't get too excited about a free period, Kuki Urie."

"I wasn't," Urie snaps.

"Tsukiyama?" Kaneki hisses.

 _Are you actually talking to me now?_ "Yes?"

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to help me with something." Kaneki keeps his voice low. _  
_

 _Is this actually happening?_ Tsukiyama nods, a grin on his face.

"I want to try to find Rize Kamishiro."

 _How would I even know where to look? And why would you want to?_ Still, he nods.

"Monsieur and Madame Thénardier, get up here!" yells Itori.

* * *

Chie snaps photo after photo of Shuu dancing around the stage, fake bottle in his hand as he warbles about robbing customers and Kimi slithers around a terrified Hanbee's lap as she sings about Monseiur Thénardier thinking he's quite a lover but not having much there.

"No, Kimi, try again!" Itori shouts. "There should be more _feeling_!"

"Everybody raise a glass!" Shuu sings, throwing his arms out as if inviting everyone to join him. Kanae stands in the group awaiting measurements and wants to throw her hands in the air as well.

"Raise it up the master's ass!" Kimi squeaks, her hand surging in the air.

"Kimi, no—"

"I'll help you get the feeling to say that," mumbles Nishiki. "Just remember what a bastard he is." His eyes narrow at Kanae as if reminding her that she, too, is a bastard to him.

Itori's been similarly displeased with Kanae as the bishop, and with Kaneki trying to sing "Bring Him Home," though he seems to nail "Valjean's Soliloquy" each time. Guilt and self-sacrifice are Kaneki's thing. Hope and mercy? No one ever offered that to Karren, and so Kanae stands here, failing and failing in each and every aspect of his life.

Kanae's heart picks up pace as Aki, the wife of the head of the board, appears with a clipboard and several tape measures. Kanae does not want this woman measuring her chest and waist and hips. Surely she'll notice that something's off, even if Kanae isn't exactly the most curvaceous woman on this earth.

_I can't take this risk!_

"Can I measure myself?" she hears Mutsuki asking.

Aki nods, handing over a yellow tape measure.

"Me, too," Kanae breaks in. "Measure myself, that is."

"Make sure you give me an accurate measurement," Aki warns. "No showing off."

Kanae rolls her eyes but snatches the tape measure.

"Why are you running off?" complains Chie as Kanae turns to scurry off behind old props.

"Because I'm a prude," Kanae snaps, crouching over and grabbing Chie by her chin. "And if you follow me and take pictures of me measuring myself, I swear I will _end_ you."

Chie blinks. "How? You have no clout here with anyone except Shuu. And he won't like you threatening me."

Heat floods Kanae's cheeks. _He wouldn't like the real me, would he?_

She remembers Eto's question from earlier. _If God is real, he or she really fucked me over._ Kanae lets Chie go and whirls around, stumbling off.

_He'll never love me._

_Please_ , she begs, a prayer.

_I am Éponine. Except I'm a devil for sure._

Kanae stops in her tracks. He sees Mutsuki behind the curtains, wrapping the tape around his chest, and a sense of familiarity swathes her.

Mutsuki freezes. Terror seizes his features. His lips tremble, and his eyes grow to the size of saucers.

Kanae turns her face away. She fumbles with her own tape. She should wait until Mutsuki's gone.

Except not. Kanae wraps it around her own chest and glances back at Mutsuki, who gapes at her. _You, too?_

Kanae swallows hard. _You won't tell, will you?_

Mutsuki offers her a weak smile. "Are you going to fudge things a little?"

Kanae shrugs. "I suppose." She takes a pen from her pocket and writes the numbers on her palm. She'll cross them out later.

"I wish I was normal," whispers Mutsuki, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

 _You have a much better chance at that than I do. I can't be me, and the man I love_ _doesn't even know. If he were to know…_

_Would you be angry, Shuu?_

_Would you be disgusted? Would you hate me?_

"I think you're fine," Kanae manages. "The way you are." _I think you're in a much better place than I am._

Mutsuki snorts.

 _Could we be friends?_ Kanae wonders. But no, Mutsuki is Kaneki's friend. Or was, because Kaneki's been avoiding Mutsuki and the rest of the juniors since his abduction and rescue. _You strike me as the loyal type._

_Like me._

_I don't think you'd take well to me hating him._

_Love can destroy or it can heal._

Or maybe, both.

_It's all the same to me._

* * *

"Don't let the wine go to your veins!" Ayato saunters over and snatches the fake bottle from Urie's grasp. He scowls up at Ayato—or Enjolras, as he's supposed to be right now. Urie's character, Grantraire, is a jolly drunk.

Mutsuki appears on the stage, dazed. Alarm springs before Urie reminds himself that Mutsuki's supposed to be a lovestruck Marius Pontmercy, and he's _acting._

 _He got this role for a good reason._ Urie hates himself for ever doubting Mutsuki could pull this off.

"Marius, what's wrong today? You look as if you've seen a ghost!" exclaims Tamaki.

Urie staggers over, throwing his arm around Mutsuki's shoulders. He can't help but notice how well Mutsuki fits there. "Some wine and say what's going on!" He grins— _you've got this; you're gonna kill this scene_ —and Mutsuki fights back a smile.

"A ghost you say?" Mutsuki says, prying himself away and sashaying to the middle of the stage. "A ghost, may be—she was just like a ghost to me! One minute there and she was gone." Mutsuki's voice trembles.

 _Sometimes I feel like you're a ghost to me,_ Urie thinks, fog settling in on him.

"Grantraire!" bellows Itori.

 _Oops_. Urie wracks his brain. _Oh right._ He spots Takeomi smirking. _I'll kill you, asshole._

"Again," Itori orders, and Mutsuki sings his lines again.

"I am agog! I am aghast! Is Marius in love at last? I have never heard him `ooh' and `aah,'" teases Urie, making his way over to Mutsuki. He whirls around to smirk at Ayato, who stands like some king on top of a table. "You talk of battles to be won, but here he comes like Don Ju-an. It's better than an _o-per-a!"_

Mutsuki grins back at him before Ayato has to intervene and ruin everything. Their voices swell in the rest of the song, but Urie's mind drifts.

_What would you think of Mutsuki, Dad?_

_Would you be as proud of me as I am of him, and he's just my friend?_

Ayato then falls off the table during the climax of the song, and due to his bloody nose Itori orders Saiko to take him to the nurse's station. The last fifteen minutes she spends directly Mutsuki, Hinami, and Touka in "A Heart Full of Love."

"Press your fingertips together," Itori orders. "There will be a gate here during the performance. Imagine your true love's here, but just beyond a small gate, and all you get to touch for now is their fingertips, but that's still proof that they're there, they're alive and in love with _you_ , too. Capture the wonder."

Shirazu snorts, breaking the spell of her words on Urie. His shoulder suddenly feels cold and empty. Urie rubs it.

"A heart full of love," Mutsuki and Hinami croon, both of them still looking as if they'd rather not sing this to each other.

Something still churns in Urie's stomach.

_What is this feeling?_

"Oh man," says Shirazu, staring at Urie.

"What?" Urie turns to him. _Is something wrong?_

Shirazu shrugs, a grin spreading across his face. "Nothing."

Urie gulps. Kaneki wanders by, dropping into a chair and flipping through his script, and Urie feels a rush of gratitude towards the other boy, possibly for the first time ever.

"Hey," says Shirazu.

"Hey," Kaneki returns, but he huddles in on himself and doesn't say another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shirazu's onto you, Urie... ;) And unfortunately, Kanae, Eto's onto you as well.


	18. Chiaroscuro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

"Don't worry," Saiko says as Mutsuki slams his locker shut. "It's only been three weeks."

"Well, I am worried," declares Shirazu. "It's like his only friends now are Tsukiyama and sometimes Hinami."

"He needs time," Mutsuki says quietly. Even if Kaneki's avoidance bothers him, too.

"Did you actually do your homework this time?" asks Hsiao, slinging an arm over Saiko's shoulder as they head to art.

Saiko cringes. "Mutsuki, can I copy yours?"

"No, you may not," snaps Urie.

"You're not Mutsuki," taunts Saiko.

"We rarely even get homework in art, Saiko," Shirazu points out. "Couldn't you honor Uta just this once? It was just a goddamn worksheet on art history."

"I tried, but the newest chapter of this manga I'm reading came out and I—" Tears fill Saiko's eyes.

Mutsuki reaches into his bag for the worksheet. Urie lets out a groan.

"You can copy mine," Hsiao announces. Aura shakes his head.

Higemaru rolls his eyes. "I agree with Urie. It's a stupid idea. If she didn't do it, she should face the consequences."

"And if I want to help her, I can face the consequences," retorts Hsiao. "Use synonyms, Saiko."

Saiko scribbles as they walk. Mutsuki bites back a smile. And then he remembers the knife Tokage gave him that sits in his drawer, and the cat, and his stomach sours. So far the knife's still clean. _I haven't done it again_. But he's too scared to dispose of the knife and risk getting caught.

 _What makes you want to hide, Kaneki?_ he wonders as Kaneki and Tsukiyama head up the stairs to biology, or whatever science course the seniors have now. Mutsuki hunches over. The sky looms, gray and overstuffed. Damp, frigid air digs its nails into Mutsuki's cheeks.

"No way!" Hsiao shrieks, looking at her phone. Mutsuki jumps.

"What?" Saiko yelps, stopping right in front of the low-lying art building.

"Takeomi asked Yoriko to the dance!"

"Already? Isn't that like three weeks away?" asks Shirazu.

"Yeah!" Hsiao chortles. "Hey, Urie, your BFF's got a girlfriend before you do!"

"He is not my BFF! Or even my friend! And I'm not desperate enough to ask three weeks out," Urie snaps. "Besides, this dance is casual, right? Who even asks someone to this kind of thing?"

"Urie, be careful, you're starting to look green," Saiko warns.

Urie stalks into the art classroom. Mutsuki cringes and hurries after him. _You_ are _jealous, aren't you?_

_You feel lonely._

In Mutsuki's wildest dreams, Kaneki asks him. But there's no way. Everyone will be going solo. _Well, not entirely,_ Mutsuki thinks as he takes note of his friends. _I'll go with all of them. Unless, of course..._

"Today we're starting a new unit," Uta announces. He surveys them all. "Your literature teacher, Eto, recommended that I have an artist friend of hers visit today to give you a brief overview of chiaroscuro. Light, and shadow. I want each of you to incorporate it into your work."

"Subtle," mutters Urie. Mutsuki glances at him. He wishes he knew what to say.

"Hinami, collect the homework," Uta orders. "Someone name an artist known for this technique."

"da Vinci," calls Hanbee.

"Yes. Another?"

"Caravaggio," says Urie, raising his hand even though Uta doesn't seem to require it.

Mutsuki read about Caravaggio last night. A murderer, perhaps accidentally. Mutsuki tries to imagine suddenly realizing you've killed someone, and remembers the cat, and more. His stomach feels as if it's been ripped open. He doubles over. _Don't think about it._

"Are you sick?" Urie hisses.

Mutsuki shakes his head.

"And now, I turn it over to Karao Saeki," says Uta, stepping back into the shadows.

A gaunt man steps up, twitchy and nervous. Mutsuki doesn't like his artwork from what he sees. It's all of women's torsos, no arms or legs. When he finally gives the class a chance to sketch on their own, relief topples through Mutsuki.

"What a creep," Urie remarks.

"Symbolically, it could be about being trapped in a body that feels unnatural," mumbles Shirazu. "Notice how they're all scarred?"

Mutsuki's back feels tight. He shifts his shoulders.

"Or about a guy who gets off on murdering women," counters Saiko.

"Better to do it in paintings than real life," Hsiao says with a shudder.

"Nice flower," says Urie, nodding at Mutsuki.

"It's a dying flower," he counters, squinting at the canvas.

"Still better than my kitchenware," Urie points out.

 _Not hardly._ Urie's talented. "Who're you going to draw next week when we do portraits?"

"Takeomi," pipes up Saiko.

"Shut up!" Urie jabs at her with his pen. Mutsuki bites back a laugh.

"That's not bad," comments a voice above them.

Mutsuki tilts his head back to see Saeki watching him. "Thanks," he mutters.

"You should add some shading here." Saeki's hand grips Mutsuki's, dragging it along the paper.

 _Let go of me!_ Mutsuki bites his lip so hard he draws blood. "Urie's is better than mine," he blurts out.

"Hm?" Saeki turns to Urie. "Oh. Wow. Yours is quite good."

Urie narrows his eyes, but his cheeks flush. Mutsuki smiles. _See? A professional artist likes your work_.

"Uta," calls Saeki. The art teacher looks up from where he's been peering over Hinami's shoulder. "You have a very talented boy and girl here."

Mutsuki freezes.

"Wrong," says Urie.

"What is wrong with you?" snaps Juuzou, of all people. He gets to his feet. "Mutsuki's a guy."

"Juuzou," warns Uta.

"Well, he is!"

"Oh!" Saeki's eyes sweep down Mutsuki's thick sweater and jeans. "So you are. I apologize."

"It's fine," Mutsuki mutters. An honest mistake, probably. Still, Mutsuki wants to stab his pen through his drawing. _Why?_

"So sorry," Saeki says, his hand squeezing Mutsuki's shoulder. Mutsuki tenses. Urie gets to his feet as Saeki lets go and moves on.

"Asshole," mutters Urie, but only loud enough so Mutsuki can hear.

_I hate this._

_I hate my body. I hate my voice. I hate this._ And he has to sit here, calm and taking it so no one will know. He can only imagine what people would say, how'd they look at him.

_I don't want their eyes on me._

Urie offers Mutsuki a bar of chocolate under the table. Mutsuki shakes his head and Urie frowns.

"It's okay," Mutsuki says, letting out his breath. No one else can hear them.

"How is it okay?" Urie demands.

Mutsuki shakes his head. "Drop it."

Urie presses his lips together. Neither of them makes much progress on their work.

"Thanks," Mutsuki mutters to Juuzou as they leave.

"Well, guys can look and sound more feminine," Juuzou insists. "It doesn't mean I'm not a guy, or that you're not."

Mutsuki swallows. _But it means I'm a target._

_I just want to be safe._

Mutsuki doesn't want to go to chemistry class and tells his friends he'll see them there—he has to go to the bathroom. But he huddles in a stall until the bell rings, and then finds his way to the grassy lawn outside the cafeteria, carefully sitting behind a lumbering tree to conceal himself from any passersby. He presses his knees against his chest, his cheek against his knees. He still shivers.

"There you are, Mucchan," says Saiko. "Finally."

Mutsuki jumps. "What are you doing?"

"Urie and I are both on 'bathroom breaks,'" says Saiko. "AKA combing the campus for you. Urie says Shirazu better take good notes for once in his life." She drops down next to Mutsuki. "It's cold. And wet. The library's a better bet for skipping class."

Mutsuki rolls his eyes.

"You know," says Saiko. "I know that you were born a girl, Mutsuki. You get sick every month. But it doesn't matter. You're my friend."

Mutsuki digs his chin into his kneecap. _Ouch_.

"I don't think anyone else even notices," says Saiko. "That artist is just insensitive."

Mutsuki shrugs. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"That's fine," says Saiko, slinging her arm around Mutsuki. "We don't have to go back to class either. Tatara's in beast mode. He's mercilessly slaughtering every single person who hasn't memorized the periodic table." She clutches Mutsuki's shoulders, her eyes wide. "Save me! Don't make me go back there!"

Mutsuki laughs.

"Want to go to the dance with me?" Saiko asks. "As friends, to be clear."

Mutsuki arches his eyebrows. "Isn't Hsiao going to ask you? Or Shirazu?"

Saiko swats his shoulder. "I'll see them there."

 _You're really asking me?_ "Okay, then." Mutsuki smiles.

"Yes!" Saiko high-fives him. "Can I text Urie? Before he turns the entire school upside down looking for you? And can we hide out by the library? It's freezing." Saiko's teeth chatter.

"Yes to both." Mutsuki gets to his feet, pulling Saiko up with him.

"Now," declares Saiko. "Urie's meeting us there. Let's play Dodge-the-Mado until we're safe and warm."

Mutsuki snickers, and Saiko grabs his wrist, yanking him down the hill. "Quick!"

By the time they reach the library, Mutsuki's teeth hurt from grinning so hard the wind can slap them.

* * *

"He doesn't like me like that," Tsukiyama says, flopping back onto his bed. His stomach growls and he pushes himself back up.

"Then why are you still hanging around with him?" questions Kanae, flipping a page in his history textbook.

"Because. Maybe he'll change his mind." Tsukiyama scowls as he twists off the top of a jar of caviar. "I'm asking Dad to bring more when he visits this weekend. Anyways, I won't give up."

"If he doesn't like you, what can you even do about it?" asks Kanae, shutting the textbook with a scowl.

"I don't know," Tsukiyama admits, a cold feeling gnawing at his chest. Or it could just be that they insist on regulating the temperature of Dorm Block 20 like they have to save money or something. "But I _want_ him, Kanae."

"Why?" asks Kanae.

 _Why do you have to ask, like you don't believe me_? "He reads the same books I do. He has an unusual—flavor—to his life, Kanae. Like you or me—we have the same flavor. We're boring. He's not trying to climb all over everybody unlike everyone else at this damn school."

Kanae turns his face away.

"You don't believe me?"

"No, I do." Kanae's voice comes soft.

"Do you understand?"

"No," Kanae admits.

"Well," says Tsukiyama. "Someday you'll meet someone." He presses his ear against the wall. "And even after all that, he still—wants to be a good person."

"Have you ever wanted to be a good person?"

"I want to have a good life," Tsukiyama responds with a chortle.

"Are they the same thing?"

" _Nein_ , my German friend." Tsukiyama blows out his breath. _Why don't you want me, Kaneki?_

"Kaneki doesn't have a good life."

"He could, though!" shouts Tsukiyama. _Why are you so down all the time, Kanae_? "If he just—"

"Loved you?"

 _Love?_ Tsukiyama lets out a bark. "Or just broke out of his box and had some fun. He's seventeen and a virgin, Kanae."

Kanae's mouth opens and closes. "So am I."

"I'll get you some action," Tsukiyama promises. "Do you think it would work? Didn't you think it could?" He studies him. For all the years Kanae's lived with his family, he doesn't understand the other boy.

"Yes," says Kanae, getting to his feet and grabbing a towel and his shower kit. "I think it could. And if it makes you happy, gives you something to work towards, you should go for it. I won't create problems this time."

"Be careful," teases Tsukiyama, springing to his feet and catching Kanae's arm. "You don't want to end up like me this past summer."

"In a hospital being force-fed?" Kanae quips. "Is this—crush on Kaneki helping you get better?"

Tsukiyama nods. Although it almost made him relapse, too. _Destroy, save, it's the same thing_. "It's not a crush, though. It's just that I want to bang him."

"If it makes you want to get better," says Kanae. "Then that's good. Sorry, I just—history's stressing me out. I'm going to shower now."

"Give Chie a call; she'll be happy to help!" hollers Tsukiyama. Not that Chie's great with studying. The door shuts behind Kanae.

He doesn't want to dwell on what happened at the end of last year. _Severe depression and anorexia,_ the doctors said. But it wasn't that he didn't want to eat. It was that he didn't see a point. Not even Kanae could cheer him up, for all Kanae's attempts. Between that and his truancy and being expelled at his old school, the psychiatrist insisted he be sent here, and Kanae with him.

 _Sorry to call you so much trouble, Dad,_ Tsukiyama thinks as he chews the caviar. _But I'm better now. Thanks to Kaneki giving me something to work towards. I do like a chase. I can help him get better, too._ Ever since he met Kaneki, smelled him, heard him laugh, heard about the Mado incident, he felt like he had a goal to work towards. Hot, new, dangerous... _that's all, right?_

When Saturday rolls around, Kanae claims to have a stomachache. "I really don't think I can come," he mumbles, head still pressed into his pillow.

"Well," says Tsukiyama, frowning. "Okay."

"Tell your dad I say hello."

"I will." Tsukiyama sighs and pulls out his phone. _Chie_ , he texts. _Sneak into the senior boys' floor on my dorm and smuggle Kanae some medicine, will you?_

"Don't call Chie," Kanae warns. "I'm a mood to rip her head off if she comes here."

"You wouldn't." Tsukiyama runs a brush through his hair, squinting.

"Don't test me."

Tsukiyama rolls his eyes and skips out the door. He knocks on Kaneki's.

"Arima refused me permission to leave campus," Kaneki greets him, eyes ringed with shadows. "Apparently they think Yamori's thugs will be out for revenge."

 _Not impossible_. Tsukiyama nods, but his heart aches. "See you later." They need to look into private investigators. _Find Rize Kamishiro._

_How to start, though?  
_

"Have fun with your dad." Kaneki shuts the door.

Tsukiyama bounds down the stairs, prancing across campus towards the gate. He can't wait. Hinami waves from where she's curled on a bench, bundled up and reading. Kaneki would be proud. Tsukiyama snaps a shot of her and sends it to him.

"Shuu!" Dad's waiting in the limo outside the gate. Mado scowls as he signs Tsukiyama's pass, and then Tsukiyama's in his father's arms. "Where's Kanae?"

"Sick. Says he must have eaten something wrong." Tsukiyama's nose wrinkles. "Cafeteria food is not terribly appetizing for a recovering—"

"Where do you want to go?" Dad asks, ushering him into the limo.

Tsukiyama spreads out, stretching his arms and legs. "MM's Steakhouse?"

"Sounds good," Dad says, ordering the chauffeur. "I heard from Matsumae that you've the highest GPA among your class."

 _Much to Nishiki Nishio's rage_. Tsukiyama smirks.

"I'm proud of you," says Dad.

"Better than last year?" asks Tsukiyama, watching the barren trees speed by. They look like skeletons.

"I'm proud of you no matter what you do, Shuu. I'm _happier_ seeing you happy, though."

 _Oh_. Tsukiyama blinks. Because he's pretty sure he remembers overhearing his dad lamenting to Matsumae last fall, over a year ago now, about the teachers' reports that Tsukiyama was something of a playboy, having a new boyfriend or occasionally, a girlfriend, each week. But he still got the top grades, so he didn't see why they were complaining.

" _They're more worried about the kind of person you become than what you accomplish," Matsumae told him when she caught him and Kanae eavesdropping._

" _How do you measure what kind of person you become other than by accomplishment?" Tsukiyama asked._

He still isn't sure, but pursuing Kaneki seems to be a good step. Although pursuing someone for yourself is probably less admirable than he hopes it is. _Whatever. This is exhausting._ He imagines Kaneki again, and his heart rate picks up and his head spins like he's intoxicated, like he's high.

"I heard you had a rough time a few weeks ago," Dad adds.

"Oh." Tsukiyama flexes his fingers. "Yeah. But I'm—doing better now." _Now that everyone doesn't hate me and Kanae._

When he arrives back at the school, carrying leftovers for Kanae and Kaneki, he finds Kaneki isn't answering his door. Scowling, he stomps into his room. Another private investigator emailed Tsukiyama to turn them down. No prestige in finding a runaway delinquent. _Fuck you._

Kanae's still curled up in bed. The room smells stale. "I brought you steak," Tsukiyama announces.

"Thanks." Kanae doesn't lift his head.

 _Why is everyone so depressed?_ Tsukiyama sits on the edge of Kanae's bed and shakes him by the shoulder. Kanae pries an eye open. Tear tracks mar his face. "Kanae!"

"Being sick makes everything seem worse," Kanae says, closing his eyes.

"Do you have a fever?" Tsukiyama presses his hand against Kanae's forehead. It's cold. His heart sinks. _Are you really even sick at all, or was this a ploy?_ "You know you wouldn't have been intruding if you wanted to come to lunch."

"I really do have a stomachache, Shuu." Purple strands stick to his cheek.

"Well," says Tsukiyama. "You didn't have to throw Chie out. I got her texts."

Kanae grimaces.

"Remember what I told you when you first came to live with us and missed your family?" asks Tsukiyama. "You don't have to cry alone. Live beautifully with your head up high."

"How do I do that?" Kanae asks, cracking an eye again.

"You stop crying alone," says Tsukiyama. "When you're sad, tell me." _You tried so hard to save me last spring_. "I care about you."

Kanae closes his eyes again, but this time, he nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Touka has had enough of Kaneki avoiding her, and Ayato cannot flirt.


	19. Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Enjoy this chapter complete with a snow fight and some dirty dancing, before everything goes to hell next chapter.

Touka taps her foot against the carpet, listening the clock tick and tock. In another five minutes, Akira will kick her out for breakfast and the start of the day.

But Kaneki's not here yet. Hide already left, raising his eyebrows at her and muttering, "good luck." It's been well over a month, and Touka's at her wits end.

Juuzou skips out, singing to himself. Behind him, Saiko lumbers out, mumbling and still trying to pull her hair up in its signature blue ponytails.

The stairwell door opens again. _Kaneki_. Without Tsukiyama and Kanae, thankfully. Touka springs to her feet. " _Kaneki!"_

"Touka?" He turns to her. "Is everything okay?"

"No," Touka snaps. "Hinami had to ask Tsukiyama for the best time for me to accost you. Do you realize how strange that is?"

His eyebrows fly up. "You're—accosting me?"

"Yes," Touka says, resisting the urge to grab his arm. "I—" _Miss you_. "I'm sick to death of you ignoring me."

Kaneki shakes his head. He cracks his knuckle. "I'm not trying to ignore you—I just—I thought you would need space."

"What?" Touka's jaw drops. "What have I ever done to make you think I want that?"

"Touka, Kaneki," orders Akira as she scurries out, Amon and Seidou on her heels. "Out."

"Good morning," Kaneki greets Akira, but Touka does grab his elbow this time, pulling him outside. Touka skids to a stop.

"Snow," Akira breathes behind them. Flakes flutter down, light and dancing. The sky glows a light gray.

"That's not going to delay the bell," Seidou reminds them as they hustle along. Touka jerks her head to the side path leading away from the cafeteria. To her surprise, Kaneki follows. They cross a small bridge three paces long, made of stone, which links the cafeteria hill to the one leading to the main offices. An alleyway lined with dumpsters sits below.

"Your feet feeling better?" Touka asks, leaning against the stone railing.

Kaneki nods. "The cast on my hand comes off next week. Day before the dance."

"Nice," Touka remarks.

Kaneki clears his throat, eyes darting around. Snow coats the top of the bridge, and from their vantage point Touka can see the roofs of other dorms, red and spotted with white blotches of snow.

"I wasn't joking," Touka says, her fingers pressing the cold snow. "I want to know what I did to make you think that I want you to avoid me."

"I—it's nothing _you_ did—" Kaneki stammers.

"Then what is it?" Touka whirls around to face him.

"I-it's just—you were so close to Yoshimura—he was almost like a father to you; I know it, and because of me—"

Anger burns inside her. "Because of _you?_ If he's in jail it's because they think he was involved. You didn't lie or anything, did you?"

Kaneki shakes his head, his pallor paler than the snow.

"Then why do you think you're responsible?"

"Because—if I—"

"You think too much of yourself and your own power."

"I—what?"

"You pretend to be thinking about others," Touka says, her fists curling as she voices her worst fear directed towards her father, the fear Ayato believes that Touka can't quite swallow, not just yet, even if she thinks he's probably right. "When you're really only thinking about yourself. You're avoiding me because it makes you uncomfortable, not because you're worried about me—because if I was uncomfortable, it would make you—if Yoshimura did it, then he did it, and it's got nothing to do with you!"

Kaneki shakes his head, cracking his knuckles again. "I know Yoshimura didn't do it."

"Huh?" Touka frowns at him.

"Arima suggested I write to him," Kaneki whispers, his hand folding over the pocket of his black sweatshirt. "I got his letter back last night."

Touka gapes.

"Here." He pulls out two folded pieces of lined paper. "You can read it."

Touka snatches the pages, her arms shaking and not from the frigid air. Her fingers brush against Kaneki's gloved hands.

_Dear Ken,_

_I'm glad to hear you're recovering well. Arima is a good man. As for your questions—there are things about me that you will find out that surely will not impress you. I shoved a man down a flight of stairs when I was younger, and he died. I served time in prison. I bought and sold drugs because I would have given anything to escape the life I lived, but I made no actual movement towards breaking the cycle in my life._

_And then I met a woman named Ukina. She served coffee at a shop I liked to visit, and she noticed that I was alone. I started coming more often, because she was pretty and she intrigued me, but I also lived my old life. And then one day, as I had just sold cocaine to a man who hadn't paid well and I threatened him, she caught me. And instead of slapping me, running away, banning me from her coffee shop, she embraced me. She told me she knew I had been alone, and that it must have been so hard._

_So I changed. Because she was what I wanted in life, and it didn't matter if I ever was wealthy or had any sort of prestige, because those things would never break the crushing loneliness I felt. But she broke in. Eventually we found out we were pregnant, and Ukina developed complications. The doctors recommended a termination, but Ukina said no. She believed in a miracle. I didn't, but as usual, she was right, and we had a child, and no matter how I loved Ukina, the love I felt for this child was—is—unlike anything I've ever felt in the world. That kind of love is powerful._

_And then when our baby was only a few months old, an old associate from my life as a dealer found me. He broke into our place and shot Ukina. She died in my arms. I saw my sins for what they were then—before, it was always someone else's life, and now it was a life more precious to me than my own. The murderer would come back for me, I was certain, and I was so afraid I entrusted a friend to care for my child while I helped hunt them down. But I lost my child because of that. The courts agreed it was better for my friend to raise my baby. And they weren't wrong._

_Ken, I could never hurt my child. To do so would be to sully Ukina's memory. And you're right—to me, Touka is like another child. I could never hurt her, or you, or any of the children at that school. Because you are all children, and I never want to see you walk the path of violence that I walked. You will reap what you sow. I learned that lesson too late. So maybe it is fitting for me to be in prison, after all._

* * *

"That's it?" Touka demands.

Kaneki nods. She folds the letter along its lines and hands it back. Kaneki swallows. The snow pricks at his face. His nose aches.

Touka leans over, resting her elbows on the cement rail, which someone clearly tried to carve into an elegant diamond pattern but failed, leaving an uneven and ugly design. "I asked Yoshimura to protect me, more or less, when he took us in off the streets. I never asked you."

"I—"

"If I still want to be your friend, I'd like it if you'd let me," Touka says, still looking down at the snow collecting on the dumpsters. "You can't assume what I think or feel. That's really just your way of protecting yourself."

"You already said that."

"Well, it's true." Now she glares at him, blue strands covering her eyes. She brushes them back and wrinkles her nose. "And really? _Tsukiyama?"_

"He's not bad, actually," Kaneki says. _And he can help me protect you_. _Find Rize, find the traffickers, put them in prison._ "Kanae's a little—well. Moody. But I wonder if he's in love with Tsukiyama, and Tsukiyama's oblivious."

"He's in love with you." Touka lifts her hand so the snow melts and drips through her fingers.

"That's okay so long as he isn't trying to force me to love him back."

Touka raises her eyebrows. "Exactly. People are fully capable of making their own decisions."

Kaneki frowns.

Touka steps towards him. "Don't avoid me anymore. Unless you don't want to be my friend, in which case, just tell me."

"What? That's not—of course I want you to be my friend!" Kaneki insists. Except he's not sure if he deserves friends. He thinks of his mother. He thinks of Rize and Yamori and cracks a knuckle. "I'm just—"

"Worried you're not a good friend?" Touka asks. Snow sticks to her eyelashes. "Well, you haven't been a good one lately. Although you do have a reason for it. I'll keep you informed if you're not."

Kaneki snorts. Shame still niggles at him.

"And I like you anyways," Touka continues. "I'm not always a good friend, either."

Kaneki opens his mouth to protest and then clamps it shut.

"Kimi told me once that Nishiki said you get to choose who hurts you in life, and he doesn't mind being hurt by her. I can protect myself," Touka adds. "You, Yoshimura—you're people I care about, so if things happen and I get hurt—it's not entirely up to you."

Kaneki's not sure he follows, but he'll have to bring this up with Arima later. He shudders as he remembers his mother, and her insistence on being obligated to help her sister, even when it meant she and Kaneki went without food, even when she cried and screamed at him, when she slapped him out of frustration and apologized. _I'm just frustrated with my sister._

 _No_ , Kaneki remembers thinking. _You're frustrated you have to take care of me too. I keep you from feeling loved. I remind you of your failures._ And so he tried, he tried so hard.

She still died. _It's my fault._

"I'm not—after what happened," Kaneki starts. "I'm—afraid." _If it can happen to me, it can happen to you. I won't let that happen.  
_

Touka doesn't mock him. She nods.

"I am sorry for avoiding you, though," he adds. And he is. Watching her lips curve into a smile, he feels something spark inside him.

Touka holds her hand out to shake his. Her palm is damp and freezing. Kaneki yelps. "Sorry. Snow."

Kaneki smirks. "So what happened between you and Tsukiyama?"

"Argh." Touka rolls her eyes. "I may have beaten him up—well, we beat each other—until Yoshimura intervened. His dad's an old friend of Yoshimura's, or he was."

"He did mention he's got a lawyer friend set up for Yoshimura," Kaneki admits.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Touka cries out.

Kaneki throws his hands into the air. "Didn't we just go over this?"

"I guess so." Touka leans against the railing again. "So are you going to the dance with him?"

"No?" Kaneki blinks. "He's trying to help me with—something." _If we can just convince a private investigator—_

"What?"

"Do you want to go with me?" he blurts out.

Touka's eyes bulge. _"Huh?"_

 _Oh. Shit. Shit, shit, shit!_ Kaneki's face feels like it's melting. He claps his gloves to his cheeks. "I mean—"

"Sure," Touka offers.

 _Sure_? Kaneki can barely believe it. His stomach growls.

"We should get some food," Touka says, turning around to look down at the dumpsters again. "Thanks. The dance will be fun."

He nods. "I've never been to one."

"I usually just hang in the corner with Yoriko. But you know, she's going with Takeomi this time, so it'll be good to have someone to dance with. Not that I won't step on your feet about a dozen times."

Kaneki moves next to her, gripping the railing. "So my toes will be broken again?"

"Probably."

"Well," Kaneki muses, trying to stifle a laugh. "I guess if what you said is true, and we get to choose who hurts us in life—"

Touka snickers. And then something icy and wet slaps the back of Keneki's neck. He yelps.

"Gotcha," says Touka, and then she takes off towards the cafeteria.

" _Touka!"_ Kaneki scrapes as much snow as he can, balling it up in his hand and pelting it at her. She deftly avoids his first two, but his third snowball smacks into her coat.

They show up to the cafeteria dripping and with just enough time to grab a plate of bacon before the bell rings.

Hide sidles up next to Kaneki. "You didn't invite me to the snow fight? I'm wounded."

Kaneki snorts as he stuffs his mouth, heading to his locker. "It was kind of impromptu."

"You know, I wouldn't be offended if—"

"I talked to you more?" Kaneki gulps and faces his friend. "I'm sorry, Hide—I know I've been avoiding, I'm just—"

"Dude. No," Hide interrupts, a smile on his face. "Though I am glad to hear you say that. Does that mean you'll sit with me again at lunch? Or I can join you and Sir Extra and his knight?"

Kaneki nods.

"Good. And what I was _going_ to say, Kaneki, actually, was that I wouldn't be offended if, you know, this was a date or something. With you and Touka." Hide wiggles his eyebrows.

Kaneki turns red as he ducks to grab his textbook. "I did ask her to the dance."

Hide says nothing. Kaneki's heart beats faster as he looks up. Hide holds out his hand for a high-five.

When he tells Arima during their afternoon session, Arima smiles. "Good for you, Ken."

* * *

"Good job, Hinami!" cheers Eto, slapping down her latest reading quiz on the first section of _Les Misérables_. _95_. Hinami smiles.

She watches as Ayato gets his quiz back and cringes. Since she's sitting behind him, Hinami catches sight of the _58_ and the words _you can do better_ scrawled in Eto's red pen.

When the bell rings, Hinami hesitates, and then calls out to him. "Ayato!"

"Yeah?" He turns to wait for her, earring swinging.

She hurries over to him. "I—saw your quiz score. I'm sorry," she adds when his face pales. "I was just—do you want to study together, next time? Kaneki's helped me, but he's busy and I study best with people, so I was thinking maybe you—maybe we could—"

"Maybe I just don't care about studying," Ayato retorts, marching out of the classroom.

"Well, if you change your mind, let me know," Hinami calls. _Why do I feel so stung?_

"Wait," he yells after her. She turns around. "Why do _you_ care?"

 _Why wouldn't I?_ "I want to learn."

"Why?"

"Because—I don't want to be stupid. My father was a doctor; he—"

"So you want to please your father? But he's dead."

Hinami flinches. _Why do you have to be such a jerk? Still?_ "I _like_ learning. I want to be a doctor too, or a psychologist. What about you?"

Ayato blinks, the meanness dissipating from his face. The tightness of his mouth relaxes, and his eyes soften. "What do _I_ want to be?"

She nods.

"I don't have dreams." Ayato smirks. "I'm a horrible person, remember? Since everybody knows."

"That's too bad," Hinami says, hugging her books to her chest. _You're an idiot._

Ayato ducks his head and mutters something so fast Hinami can't understand him.

"What?"

"Sorry I said that about your father," Ayato mumbles, blowing his breath out in the end as if saying that almost killed him.

Hinami nods.

"Do you miss them?" Ayato asks.

Tears fill Hinami's eyes and Ayato looks terrified. "All the time. They weren't—I can't—I still don't believe what they say about them. I can't. Sometimes I do, and mostly—I can't. My dad liked to help people. I can't believe he would—"

"My dad was obsessed with being polite and kind to everyone, until he abandoned us," Ayato says. "He probably thought he was protecting us, but he turned into a monster."

Hinami raises her eyebrows. "Your dad wasn't my dad."

"I know, I just—" Ayato sucks in his breath. "We could study together sometime. If you wanted."

Hinami cocks her head to the side. "Okay."

"I probably need the help. But don't tell Touka, okay?"

Hinami pretends to seal her lips. Ayato almost smiles. "Did she tell you she's going to the dance with Kaneki?"

Ayato's jaw drops. "No?"

"Oh."

"Well," says Ayato, playing with his earring. "That's good. I mean, I'm glad. Kaneki's—a good person. At least he tries to be. Which is more than can be said for most people in this place."

Hinami nods. "Tell me about it."

Ayato slides his eyes towards her. "You don't belong in a place like this."

"Huh?" Hinami frowns.

"You're too kind for this school. You're like Kaneki."

Hinami shakes her head. "That's nice of you, but I _am_ here." There's no point on dwelling on _what ifs_. _We both just need to move forward_.

Ayato opens his mouth and shuts it. He fiddles more with his earring, flicking it and twisting it. "I'm not asking you to go with me, but if I went to the dance, would you dance with me there?"

"If you're nice to your sister," Hinami counters.

Ayato's mouth twitches in a smile. "Well, she didn't kill me when she had a good reason to, so she's earned some kindness."

_You still feel terrible about it, don't you?_

_You don't want me to turn out like you,_ Hinami realizes. _That's what you're saying._

She heads to her next class and almost falls asleep. When she gets back to the dorm, Ayato's already in his room. _Dammit_. She can't follow. But she _can_ text him. _Want to study tomorrow after school_?

 _Ok_ , he responds.

"Touka!" shrieks Yoriko, throwing their door open. "I just heard! Ah! I'm so excited! I get to do your makeup, all right? And—"

"It's casual!" yelps Touka.

"You still have to wear a dress!"

"What's going on?" asks Kimi, sticking her head in their room.

"Touka's going to the dance with Kaneki!" Yoriko reports.

"I'm just going to break his toes again," grumbles Touka.

"Bull—baloney," Kimi says as Akira pauses outside the door. "You're athletic. I've seen you in gym. I can give you some dancing practice, if you want. My mother kept me in lessons until I started high school."

"Can I get in on that?" shouts Saiko, flinging her door open. "I'm going with Mutsuki—don't look at me like that; he's just my bro—but like, dancing's not my thing."

"Sure," agrees Kimi. "Yoriko, you can help, can't you? Hinami? Akira? Kurona? You're all going, aren't you?"

"I guess," comes Kurona's voice.

"I might as well," Hinami says, her cheeks heating. She refuses to look at Touka.

"Okay," agrees Akira. "If you all finish studying early tonight. I can ask Shinohara to extend lights out by an hour or so. And to expect stomping on his ceiling."

* * *

"You have to move your hips, Touka," Kimi directs. "Like this. Watch Yoriko."

Hinami gulps water from her bottle. Kimi means business, apparently. Touka looks as if she wants to punch the wall.

"Hinami, work with Kurona," orders Kimi. "You've got it."

"I won't really be dancing," mutters Kurona, but she snorts as Hinami pretends to trip Yoriko.

"You never know," Hinami chirps.

Kurona raises her eyebrows. "Did someone ask you?"

"Not _to_ the dance," Hinami says.

"Suspicious phrasing," remarks Saiko as Hinami puts her hands on Kurona's shoulders. "Spill, Hinami!"

"Nothing to spill," Hinami lies.

"Hey, I asked Mutsuki," Saiko admits. "But I suspect he won't dance very much. I'll have to rely on Shirazu and Hsiao for that."

Kimi resets the music, keeping the volume "below wall-shaking," as Shinohara requested, but it's still loud enough they have to shout.

"Akira, we haven't seen you dance!" calls Saiko, her eyes landing on the RA.

Akira laughs, and then gasps as Kimi hauls her up. Yoriko grabs Akira's wrists.

"Wow, you're really good," gushes Saiko, her eyes shining. Hinami's never seen their RA let loose like this before. Now Yoriko, Kimi, and Akira are pretending to have a dance-off.

"I look stupid," mutters Kurona.

"Actually, you look pretty great," Hinami counters. And Kurona does.

"See, this is only how we'll be dancing when the teachers are around," Saiko calls. "When they have to deal with—someone's shenanigans, we can go all out."

"Like this," jokes Hinami, and she grinds against Touka, who laughs in spite of the horror on her face. "Will you turn us in for this, Akira?"

"Don't know what you're talking about; I haven't seen anything!" Akira shouts back with a wink, yanking off her sweater.

Saiko shrugs. "Let's have a horrible dancing competition, Kurona. I'm pretty sure I can win." She jabs her arms out. Kurona copies her, but makes it look decent.

The door to their dorm flies open. Kurona's arm flies out and smacks Seidou in the nose.

"Oh my God!" yelps Kurona.

Amon freezes behind Seidou, who covers his face. Amon's jaw hangs open.

"Hi, boys," says Akira, straightening and running her hands through her mussed hair.

"Aren't you supposed to knock?" shrieks Saiko.

"We did!" moans Seidou.

"We came to see what the party was about," Amon remarks dryly. Hinami pries herself away from Touka.

"We were just—um—can you turn the music down?" requests Seidou. "My guys can hear it. So can his."

Kimi turns the knob down and wipes her forehead.

" _Bye_ , boys," Akira says pointedly. Amon nods and, as the door shuts, Hinami hears Seidou muttering about being scarred for life.

"Ah well," says Yoriko with a shrug. "They're gonna see worse at the dance."


	20. Falling Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> Regarding today's chapter, please be forewarned that, towards the end of this chapter, there is a scene that contains sexual assault. If that could be triggering, please feel free to skip the last four paragraphs of the chapter.

_But there are dreams that cannot be_   
_And there are storms we cannot weather_   
_I had a dream my life would be_   
_So different from this hell I'm living_   
_So different now from what it seemed_   
_Now life has killed the dream I dreamed_

_"I Dreamed a Dream," Les Misérables **  
**_

* * *

"Aren't you jealous?" Kanae asks as she adjusts her tie. Shuu insisted she wear a lavender shirt because it matches her hair.

"I don't know," Shuu answers. He's shirtless, and Kanae feels her pulse speeding up. "I can still dance with him."

"But he's _not_ going to sleep with you," Kanae fires back. "Ever. He likes Touka."

Shuu scowls. "It is what it is."

"Huh?"

"Ah!" Shuu jabs his finger in the air. "I forgot to tell you. _Pardon, Monsieur_ Kanae. I talked to my dad and Matsumae, and they both say that when you like someone, you let them go."

Kanae freezes. "So you do love him?" Hasn't she always known?

 _You like sex. But you like people more, and you like connecting with them more, even if you can't admit it_.

"Well, no, but—"

"Yes you do!" Kanae barks with laughter. "But I don't think you're really good at that. Letting go."

"No," Shuu says, still scowling as if what Kanae says offends him, even though it can't possibly bother him as much as it bothers Kanae. "But my dad is."

 _I can't let you go. I love you too much. I keep hoping_. _You're my everything_.

 _What else do I even have?_ _Four gravestones to lay roses on?_

 _Stop crying alone._ Kanae drags in a deep breath.

Shuu shrugs into his brilliant purple suit. "Chie will dance with you."

Kanae groans. _Are you actually trying to set us up or something?_ She's pretty certain he's not, but Shuu seems incapable of admitting that he actually likes having people in his life other than to move them around for his amusement.

 _But you gave me hope again after my family died, and I'll never forget that_.

Kaneki looks striking in a bright blue shirt Shuu picked out for him, a shirt that used to be Kanae's. "Touka's going to love it," Shuu assures him.

Hide snorts. "She better. And I get at least one dance with her, Kaneki, before you sneak off to make out or whatever."

"We've never kissed!" Kaneki's face blooms red as a rose.

"Well, get on it, then," says Kanae. Not that she's ever been kissed. One girl at her old school offered, but Kanae kept thinking of Shuu and pushed her away.

 _I'm going to be alone forever, aren't I?_ She catches sight of her reflection in the mirror. Nishiki stumbles out of his room, a bangle on his arm.

"What's that?" asks Hide.

Nishiki covers it with his hand. "It's nothing."

"It's a bangle," drawls Kanae, leaning against the wall.

"Did Kimi get it for you?" Hide demands. "And you're _wearing_ it?"

"I've been wearing it for weeks already!" Nishiki shouts.

"I think it's sweet," whispers Kaneki, his hand finally free of his cast.

"My God," moans Hide.

Amon exits his room as Nishiki shouts at Hide. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What now?" Amon asks, rubbing his face.

"Nishiki and Kimi are wearing matching bangles," reports Hide.

"Hm." Amon glances at Nishiki, who refuses to look anything other than defiant: jaw set, eyes solid, fists clenched. "Nice."

Hide snickers.

They meet up with Touka in the dorm lounge and head over. Kanae watches how Kaneki sucks in his breath when he sees her in her black v-neck dress and heels.

"Her fashion's not bad," Shuu muses, his breath tickling Kanae's ear. Kanae smiles.

They make their way across campus to the gymnasium, decorated with a spinning disco ball throwing magenta and teal light down on the floor and gauzy curtains strung to cover the basketball hoops and retracted bleachers. Mastumae gives both Shuu and Kanae a grin and a thumbs-up.

"Chie, take a picture," Shuu urges, wrapping his arm around Kanae. "And send it to me so I can send it to Dad."

"Will send," Chie promises, bouncing over to snap the shot. She squeals over Shuu's suit and Kanae's tie.

"It's nothing special," Kanae says.

"It looks great, though!" Chie holds up her camera. "Selfie time. Kaneki, Touka, Hide, get in it!"

Kanae's shoulder jostles against Kaneki's. After Chie snaps the photo, she steps down.

"Ouch!" Kaneki yelps.

"Sorry," Kanae stammers. "Didn't mean to step on your foot." Except she totally did, and she hates herself for it. _I really am awful._

"No worries," Kaneki assures her.

Of course, Shuu tears up the dance floor. He's good at everything. Kanae dances with Chie, but she can't stand it. A weight presses behind her eyes, and it's all she can do not to scream, pound her fists, make herself bleed.

_I'm awful._

_My love is hurting people Shuu cares about. My love is hurting Shuu. Is it even love? Am I too warped for that?_

Kanae excuses herself, stumbling out into the frigid air. Her breath forms little puffs of air. She clamps her hands against her temples, trying to regain her breath. She grips the edge of the stairs, rubbing her thumb against it until she feels the skin shred.

"You aren't having fun with your friends? And your roommate?" quips a voice.

Kanae jerks her head up to see Eto standing at the top of the stairs, peering down at her.

"I just needed some fresh air," Kanae manages. Her windpipe hurts as she tries to squeeze her chest together. _No crying. No crying._

_I'll honor your last wish, Dad._

_I'm Kanae._

_Karren is dead, too._

Eto throws her head back and laughs.

"Are you mocking me?" Kanae demands. _Fuck this._ She doesn't have to take this from a bitchy little teacher.

"No, _Karren_."

Kanae freezes, gaping up at Eto.

"Ah. You're surprised." Eto flounces down the stairs until she's in front of Kanae, and at least Kanae has the satisfaction of looking down at her. "You really should be careful when you're talking to Matsumae. A little research was all it took. Even if your parents kept you and your brothers out of sight, some digging—well. Kanae von Rosewald never existed, and Mirumo hadn't heard from your mother in years, so he didn't know either, right?"

"Why are you researching me?" snaps Kanae. "That's creepy." _You're going to tell, aren't you?_ She could vomit.

"Why not? It's hard to help someone when you don't understand them." Eto moves to Kanae's other side, almost as if she's circling her.

 _You want to help me?_ "You don't understand me at all."

"Oh really? You're very selfish, you know. You pretend to care only about your roommate—your benefactor's handsome son who just so happens to be your age—but you're mean to the people he cares about. You never thought using the skirt to get back at Nishiki would help him get with Kaneki."

Eto's words twist the knife. Kanae feels sick. She jabs her thumb against the stairs again. "You knew?" _Then why haven't you turned anyone in?_

"Don't feel too badly. You're under no obligation to love someone who doesn't love you back."

She may as well have shot Kanae. Tears claw free, streaming down her face.

"He hasn't come after you and may not even know you've left the dance," Eto continues. "He doesn't even see you."

"Shut up!" Kanae screams. So what if Mado hears and comes? She can't stand this. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Eto titters, but she doesn't chastise Kanae even though yelling at a teacher is surely against the rules. "You hate being alone, don't you? I can help you, Kanae. I've helped other students with no future find ways to be less—"

"Leave me alone!" Kanae breaks into a run. Back to the dorm. _Dammit, dammit!_ She trips over a loose cobblestone and smacks her face against the ground. Her lip splits.

Kanae's not sure how long she sits on the path, crying, ice seeping through her designer pants, but Shuu never comes.

* * *

Akira smiles as she watches Ayato dance with Hinami, one hand hesitantly over her waist. Hide taps Touka and Kaneki on the shoulders, gesturing, and both of them gape. "Well, that's interesting," she comments to Amon.

He snorts, handing her a cup of punch. "It's not spiked. Seidou's making certain."

Akira spies Seidou guarding the punch bowl, his arms crossed. She rolls her eyes. "You danced yet?"

"Too many troublemakers to keep track of," Amon responds as he watches Tsukiyama spin in to snatch Hinami from Ayato. Juuzou runs across the floor, waving his arms and shrieking with laughter. _At least he's having fun_.

"Dad's patrolling the most common hook-up areas," Akira reports.

Amon laughs. "I'm glad to see Kaneki's doing better."

"Me too." Akira watches him twirl Touka around. _Kimi's lessons did help_. "I don't know how he can do it, though. If that had happened to me—if _all_ that had happened to me—"

"I think everyone here has a sob story," Amon responds.

"Except me?"

Amon gulps his punch. "I don't know your story."

"No," Akira agrees, smoothing her black dress. Her hair's pinned up on the top of her head. "You don't. Although I assume my dad's told you some stuff."

"Not really," says Amon. "Lots of stories about his time here, but nothing about himself."

"Did you ever ask?"

Amon frowns. "You want me to get killed?"

"Good point." Akira sets her cup down. "Want to dance, future valedictorian?"

Amon's face reddens. "Tsukiyama's doing better than me."

"So am I, for right now," Akira teases. She holds out her hand. "No sexy dancing like the kind you walked in on."

Amon rolls his eyes. She rests his arms on his shoulders. _You definitely work out, don't you?_

She remembers the few things she's overheard her father saying about Koutarou Amon. All positive things, except the rumor about his past that her father told Akira to never ask about again. _Is it true?_ She finds it hard to believe, but then again, at this school she's seen that trauma's done stranger things to people.

The silver cross glistens on Amon's chest, and she wonders. _If it is true, what made you into such a righteous person? Are you afraid? Is that why you're so rigid?_

Her gaze lingers on the door that leads to the staircase where the girl in the blue skirt pushed her father. Amon stops.

"What?" she asks.

"Don't look at it," he encourages her, turning her around so that he's the one facing it. Her chest presses against his, and Akira's heart starts to pound. He looks down, black hair dangling above eyes the color of the ocean on a stormy day.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to get the truth out of Kaneki," Amon says.

"I don't blame you for it. Or Kaneki." Akira clears her throat.

"Oh." He looks surprised, and Akira hopes against hope she didn't say anything to him when she _did_ blame him—like, when she was drunk. _Oh, who knows?_

 _But I don't feel like that now_. _I feel like—like—you_ _—_

The lights pulsating from the disco ball dim.

_We're both lonely, and we can't meet our own standards._

_You're holding me._

She likes how it feels, his arms around her, his face hovering close. _You're here, and_ _—_

Akira stands on tiptoe and jerks Amon's tie. She closes her eyes.

Her lips meet something, but it's definitely not a mouth.

Akira's eyes fly open to see Amon's hand pressed over her mouth, shock on his face. Her lungs throb. She pulls back, letting go of his tie.

It's almost funny. _Of course._ Akira shakes her head. "It figures. That's so like you." Her voice sounds hoarse.

Amon's brow creases.

"Sorry," Akira says, and then she walks away.

"Akira?" he calls, but she doesn't turn around.

* * *

"How much of an idiot do I look like?" Urie hisses to Mutsuki as he pretends to dip him. Music blasts so loudly Mutsuki can feel the beats through the floor. Yellow and now red lights fly across Urie's face.

"You don't look like an idiot," Mutsuki insists as he stumbles and Urie has to pull him back. He laughs. "Go try that with Saiko. She'd love it."

Urie grimaces. "I need punch first. Do you want some?"

Mutsuki shakes his head, pushing his hair off his forehead as he tries to catch his breath. He can feel sweat stains forming under his mint green shirt, the one he borrowed from Shirazu.

Saiko swoops in to grab him and dance. "Having fun?"

"Yeah," Mutsuki breathes. He notices Urie approaching, the lights now spinning at a dizzying speed over everyone in the room. "Saiko, Urie wants to dance with you."

"Oh, he does?" squeals Saiko, letting go of Mutsuki and pouncing on Urie.

"She's so cute," comments Hsiao, Aura beside her.

Mutsuki smirks. "Dance with her after Urie."

"Sounds good." Hsiao winks.

"I'm heading to the bathroom," calls Mutsuki. "Be right back!"

"See ya," says Aura, his hair still covering his eyes. _How the hell do you even see?_ Mutsuki slips through the crowd, heading towards the boys' locker room. When he returns, he pauses.

Right in front of him, Kaneki and Touka laugh, perfectly in sync. Her arms wrap around his neck. Mutsuki's stomach pinches, and for a moment, he sees a tree and feels something wet on his hands.

 _It's water,_ Mutsuki reminds himself. From washing his hands. _Not blood._

"Tooru Mutsuki!"

He spins around to see a gaunt man approaching. _The artist! Saeki!_

"Good to see you," Saeki intones, holding out his hand. Mutsuki hesitates and then shakes it. "You're probably wondering what I'm doing here."

Mutsuki nods.

"I'm visiting Eto, but she said she had to talk to a student." Saeki frowns. "Wild dance, huh?"

Mutsuki shrugs. "It's just fun." And no one's getting too raunchy.

"You come with anyone?"

"Saiko," says Mutsuki.

"The girl with the blue hair, right?"

Mutsuki nods. He wants to meld back into that mass of people, but in front of him, Touka welcomes Hide into the fray with her and Kaneki. All three of them hold hands. Mutsuki feels warm, and then cold.

_I love you._

_Why?_

"I do want to apologize, Mutsuki," says Saeki. "I was—that was ignorant of me. Stupid, really."

 _Huh?_ Mutsuki gapes up at him. And now Hide's grinding against Touka and she pushes him away, still laughing. The lights in the room spin green and blue now. "It's okay."

Saeki nods. "I do wonder where Eto is."

"Did she say whether she had to take the student somewhere?" asks Mutsuki. _How am I still standing here?_ His heart can't be beating. It feels like it's stuck to his ribs, tearing with each attempt to keep him alive.

_I'm so lonely._

Saeki shakes his head. "It was a boy with lavender hair."

 _Kanae_. "She probably took him back to my dorm," says Mutsuki.

"Can you show me where that is?" asks Saeki, frowning at his phone. "She's not answering her phone."

Mutsuki's heart sinks. "Fine." He turns and walks away from Touka and Kaneki, a lump cutting into his throat. He catches a glimpse of teal hair and almost thinks it's Eto, but no, it can't be.

"You are talented, you know," Saeki says as Mutsuki leads him up the stone steps.

"Urie's more talented," Mutsuki counters. "But he's too ambitious to do art professionally."

"Really?" asks Saeki as the wind blows. Mutsuki's teeth chatter. "It's a hard life. Not for the faint of heart."

"Urie's not faint of heart," Mutsuki says. "But I think he has other goals as well."

"Makes sense." Saeki nods. "I know lots of people call my art _creepy_."

Mutsuki gulps. The lampposts lighting the pathways seem weak, insufficient.

"But they just don't understand," Saeki continues. "I draw torsos—always with scars—because it's cathartic for me."

Mutsuki doesn't really want to know, but the sound of their footsteps sets him on edge. "How so?" he asks, just to drown out the _clip, clop._

Saeki slows. Mutsuki grits his teeth. _Come on! I want to get back to the dance!_

_Do I?_

"My father was a serial killer," says Saeki, and Mutsuki almost trips. "But I didn't know."

"Did they—send you here?" Mutsuki ventures.

He nods. "They caught him when he abandoned me. My neighbor was a girl who was beaten by her mother—we planned to run away together—he was gone for a week at that point. And while I was asleep, he murdered her—I saw her with only a torso, and with the scars left from her mother's whip, and the bruises. I killed him."

Mutsuki's heart pounds. "Your father?" _Do you know? You can't know!_

"It's like if I draw it differently, I think it might be different," comments Saeki, gazing up at the sky through a spiderweb of interlocking tree branches. There's no moon tonight. Light glimmers from a lamppost up ahead, blocked by a gnarled tree. "But you can't change the past."

"I'm so sorry," Mutsuki whispers. He can't imagine seeing something like that happen. He never had any childhood friends, but if he did—the idea nauseates him. _To have that happen to someone who you loved, and who loved you_ —"My father was awful, too."

Saeki sniffles. Mutsuki hesitates, and then puts his hand on Saeki's arm. Saeki wraps his arms around Mutsuki's back. _Too tight_. He waits a moment, and then tries to step back.

He realizes his mistake when Saeki's hands close like vice-grips over his wrists. "What—"

Saeki slams Mutsuki down on his back, grass wet and frozen against his shoulders. He opens his mouth to scream, but Saeki clamps a hand over his lips, and Mutsuki can't buck him off. Cold air jabs at Mutsuki's chest as Saeki rips his shirt apart, Shirazu's shirt, the one he insisted Mutsuki wear because it matched his hair and Saiko would want Mutsuki to match. Buttons scatter, one striking Mutsuki in the face. "So you _are_ a woman."

 _Don't do this!_ Mutsuki wants to plead, but he can't. He can't even—Saeki's face fades to another face, and he's crying when he should be screaming, and the worst part is that it all feels so familiar.


	21. But You Want To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The chapter deals with the aftermath of what happened last chapter, and contains some mentions of violence as well, so please be forewarned.

"Attention!" bellows Mado. The music shuts off, and the lights all snap back on. The disco ball keeps whirling, covering Mado's face with pink and yellow.

Urie looks up from his phone, where he's texted Mutsuki five times. _Answer, damn you!_

"You are all to go back to your dorms immediately! RAs, I want you to collect all of your students and march them there in a straight line. No lingering. Starting by the boys' locker room door with Dorm Block 1 RAs. Dorm Block 2, you go to their right. And so on. You better be organized in five minutes!"

"What the hell?" yelps Shirazu. "Is this normal?"

"I don't think so," whispers Hsiao. "Something's happened." She clutches Saiko's bare shoulders. "Where's Aura?"

Urie's heart pounds. _Mutsuki?_ He makes his way through the teeming crowd towards where Akira, Amon, and Seidou stand. "What happened?" he demands.

"Where's Kanae?" cries Tsukiyama.

"Where's Mutsuki?" Urie shouts back.

"Shinohara checked on them. Both came back early due to illness," Seidou snaps.

"But what _happened_ , Seidou?" prompts Juuzou, giggling as he grips his RA's elbow. Seidou flinches.

"Seriously," adds Kurona. "This isn't normal."

"They found an unauthorized guest on campus," says Amon. Akira focuses on her girls, refusing to look at Amon. "He was beaten with a rock and had one of his eyes gouged out. Ambulances are taking him away."

"What?" snarls Touka. Everyone, including Urie, turns to look at Kaneki. Hide scowls.

"There's no reason to think it's connected to that incident," Amon insists. "The guest has been on campus before. He's that artist friend of Eto's."

 _Saeki?_ Urie could almost laugh, if it wasn't so sickening.

"They think a student did it, don't they?" asks Kurona.

"Probably," Seidou confirms.

"Great; we're going to school with murderers," mumbles Shirazu.

"Didn't you already know that?" Saiko asks, rolling her eyes.

"Dorm Block 1!" howls Mado into a microphone. "Leave! Dorm Block Six! Dorm Block Eleven! Dorm Block Sixteen!"

They're among the last to leave. Akira leads the way, her jaw set. Urie taps at his phone. _Did you hear what happened?_

No response.

Nishiki wraps his arm around Kimi as they head back to the dorm, not in a line as Mado wanted, although they do all clump together. Hinami gasps when they see flashing lights and their normal pathway is cordoned off.

Touka holds Kaneki's hand, and he doesn't even protest as he cracks his finger. "Tell Mutsuki I hope he feels better."

Urie nods as they enter, Shinohara checking them all off. He then locks the door. _Wow. It's that serious._

"Do they know if he'll make it?" Urie hears Seidou ask.

"Questionable," Shinohara admits.

 _Yikes_. Urie feels sick as he climbs the stairs. He can hear the shower running. Mutsuki's not in their room, but his phone rests on his pillow.

 _He's in the shower,_ Urie tells himself. _And he had nothing to do with it._ _Mutsuki's too kind. To do something like that—Saeki's thin, but Mutsuki's even smaller. He couldn't do that._

"Dear God," says Shirazu, rubbing his eyes. "What a crazy end to the night."

 _It's not over yet._ Urie peers out the darkened window. He can't see anything even on a good day. Urie drops down at his desk and takes out his paints. _There's no point._ He can't concentrate.

_Mutsuki, are you okay?_

Ten minutes pass. Urie drums his paintbrush against his desk.

Fifteen, and Shirazu asks him to stop drumming and hums a song from the dance, which makes Urie tell him to stop.

Twenty-three, and Mutsuki emerges from the shower, his hair damp and sticking out from his head in cute spikes. Urie leaps to his feet. _He's okay. He's okay._ "Did you hear?"

Mutsuki nods, dumping his shower basin on the shelf under his bed. "Shinohara told me and Kanae."

"I bet it was Kanae," Shirazu comments, tossing a baseball at the ceiling. "The boy's crazy."

"That's going to hit you in the face," Urie snaps. "And Mutsuki and I won't feel sorry for you."

Mutsuki raises his eyebrows.

"You weren't feeling well?" Urie asks.

Mutsuki shakes his head, wrapping his arms over his stomach. "Must have eaten something weird."

 _More period stuff?_ Damn, these things are frequent. Urie wonders how anyone does it.

"I must have just missed them," adds Mutsuki, combing his hair with his fingers. "It's scary."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't stumble across it," Urie says. "That would have been terrifying."

"Oh, can I have my shirt back?" Shirazu asks. "I do like that one. Though it did look nice on you."

Mutsuki's shoulders slump. "I spilled punch on it. I can get it out in the wash, though—I'll do a load tomorrow."

"Punch, no you can't," says Shirazu, propping himself up on his elbow. "But it's okay."

"You texted me a half a dozen times?" asks Mutsuki, gaping at his phone.

"We were worried," retorts Urie. "You would be too, if your friend just up and vanished. You and Aura _both_ vanished."

"I just came back here. I didn't see Aura."

Urie frowns. _I didn't think you did?_

"He said the dance was stupid and he was going back to his dorm to mope," reports Shirazu. "Well, not in those words. _Stupid_ he did say though."

Mutsuki snorts and climbs into bed. "G'night."

"Night," Urie echoes, switching off the light. He lies awake, though, regretting that he didn't take the chance to dance more with Mutsuki. _You think Yoriko is so great, Takeomi? Mutsuki's amazing._

He wonders what his father would think of Mutsuki.

_I hate you for dying._

_No, I don't!_ Urie hates himself for thinking that.

Something sniffles, and it takes Urie a moment before he realizes Mutsuki's crying. Urie sits up in bed, the mattress creaking. The sniffling stops. Urie lies back down, waiting until he hears Mutsuki's breaths even out.

_You didn't._

_He hates blood_ , Urie remembers. _He couldn't have stomached it._ Maybe this crying has to do with periods. Urie climbs out of bed and digs out a chocolate bar, leaving it on Mutsuki's pillow.

When he wakes up the next morning, Mutsuki mutters his thanks and sticks it in his pocket for later.

"You're not going anywhere," Seidou greets them as they leave their room for breakfast. "We're getting breakfast delivered down in the lounge. We're on lockdown for the rest of the weekend."

"For real?" complains Shirazu.

"Whoever did this is dangerous, Ginshi!" barks Seidou. "We take no chances!"

Shirazu pretends to salute Seidou when he turns away. Urie snickers and Mutsuki crosses his arms.

"Geez, Mutsuki," comments Shirazu. "I am so sorry!"

"Huh?" Mutsuki whirls around.

Shirazu points to the purple bruises on Mutsuki's wrist. "That's from when you fell and I almost pulled your arm out of your socket, right?"

"Your noble attempt to keep me from falling," Mutsuki comments dryly. "Must be." He rubs his wrist.

"Dancing's dangerous business itself," Shirazu remarks as they head down to breakfast, where they find that instead of having cafeteria food delivered, Shinohara and his wife decided to make them all pancakes and eggs.

"Wow," Saiko squeals as she appears still clad in her pajamas and slippers, blue hair wild and unbrushed. "This almost makes getting up worth it!"

"Glad to hear it," says Shinohara, passing her a plate. She drops onto the carpet next to Urie. Juuzou hums as he helps Shinohara and his wife. Urie cringes. Hopefully Juuzou isn't poisoning them all. At any rate, the pancakes aren't half bad. Urie slathers his in butter.

Shinohara's phone rings, and he asks Juuzou to keep at it while he answers. "Well, it was a good run," remarks Shirazu.

"Huh?" asks Saiko.

"The place is about to go up in flames," Urie finishes, watching Seidou's eyes bulge in fear as Juuzou takes over the griddle.

"You're wrong," says Mutsuki. "Juuzou's not a bad person."

_Is this just because he defended you to Saeki? And saved us in the chemistry lab?_

_Okay, maybe he's not so bad_. Urie stabs at his pancake, stuffing an overly large piece into his mouth. He's not mourning Saeki. _Asshole_.

Shinohara hangs up and marches across the room, opening the door to reveal Matsumae and Mado. _Odd pairing._

"Oh God," says Shirazu. "Are we gonna have to run laps?"

Saiko gulps her coffee. "I refuse."

Matsumae ignores them and heads over to the large couch, where Tsukiyama and Kanae sit. She taps Kanae on the shoulder. Mado waves at his daughter and then focuses on Kanae.

"What?" Kanae cries out, leaping to his feet. "Why?"

The room goes silent. Urie drops his fork.

"Kanae, they just want to ask you some questions," says Matsumae, her voice calming, like warm tea. Except Kanae's eyes still shine, and he glances around the room in desperation.

"But I told you last night," says Kanae. "I left because I wasn't feeling well, and then I was here until Shinohara knocked on my door and told me and Mutsuki what happened."

"We have a teacher who says she saw you leaving the dance at a half hour past seven," says Mado. "Shinohara says you got back at nine. What were you doing all that time?"

Kanae shakes his head. "I don't—nothing! Nothing _wrong!"_

"You have to come with us," says Matsumae. "It's just down to the security office. Shinohara and I will be with you the entire time."

"I shouldn't have to! You can't possibly believe I attacked that man!" Kanae's jaw drops as his gaze skitters around the room, as if suddenly realizing that everyone can, in fact, believe it.

"Would you rather I called for the police to drag you downtown to the station to answer _their_ questions?" asks Mado. "Because that's an option."

Kanae's voice cracks. "I didn't do it!" He turns around to look at Tsukiyama, whose jaw hangs open. Kaneki and Touka peer up, their gazes troubled. Kanae's lip trembles.

"I know you didn't," Tsukiyama says, and Kanae drops his head, actually _crying_. Tsukiyama jumps to his feet, grabbing Kanae's shoulder.

"Shuu—" starts Matsumae.

"No! This is ridiculous!" Tsukiyama yells, pushing himself in front of Kanae. "What would be his motivation? We met him once, in class, and he said _nothing_ to Kanae!"

"I don't have time to waste on the _whys_ ," Mado sneers.

"Kanae," says Amon, getting to his feet. "I think you should go. You don't want to make this worse."

"It's just questions," Matsumae insists. "There's no evidence. This could _clear_ you, Kanae. But if we have to involve the police at this stage, it won't help you. It'll only hurt you."

"Fine!" snarls Kanae, turning and storming towards the stairs. "I'm getting my jacket!" he hollers at Mado.

"Follow him, Amon, and make sure he comes down and doesn't throw any evidence away," Mado orders.

"Sounds like they really do think it's Kanae," whispers Saiko.

"Well, it's not!" Tsukiyama bellows at her. He looks as if he'd like to tear Saiko apart.

"Leave her alone!" shouts Urie, leaping to his feet and glaring at the other boy, whose face contorts in a sneer.

"Shuu, calm down," Matsumae interjects. Her hand grasps Tsukiyama's shoulder, and he wilts. Kaneki and Touka both approach.

"Wow," breathes Shirazu as Kanae clomps back down the stairs, Amon behind him. The smell of smoke tickles Urie's nostrils as Matsumae and Shinohara escort Kanae outside.

"Oops!" Juuzou turns off the griddle, scraping a blackened lump of former-pancake off.

"I'll handle it!" barks Seidou.

"I need to finish all that history homework," says Mutsuki, getting to his feet. He drops his plate in the sink and heads off. Urie glares at the leftover pancake on his own plate. He wishes his appetite were gone so he could follow. He shovels the food into his mouth. Whether it's the smoke or Kanae, it now tastes like ash.

"Is that Mutsuki's phone?" asks Saiko, pointing.

 _It is._ Urie grabs it. "I'll give it to him."

A text lights up the screen. _Aura_.

_Just reminding you again that, as I said, I didn't see anything, but did anyone ask you questions yet? Higemaru says they'll talk to all 16 students who weren't in their dorms later today._

The pancakes turn from ash to glue. Urie stuffs the phone in his pocket and leans forward, trying not to choke.

_He hates blood._

_He's nice._

_He would never have assaulted Saeki. I know him!_

Urie gets to his feet.

"Are you okay?" asks Saiko.

He ignores her and heads to the stairwell, leaving his plate. Terror gnaws at him from the inside. _Mutsuki_ —

He bursts into their floor to find Mutsuki taking a shower. _Again?_

Urie curses and storms back into the stairwell. _Why?_ He checks the phone again. _You and Aura?_ _Or just you?_

He lets out a yell and slams his fist into the wall.

"Urie?" Kaneki and Touka gape up at him.

"I'll let you deal with this," says Touka, slipping into her floor. Kaneki looks pale.

"Leave it alone," Urie grinds out. _Don't you dare look at me like I'm some pitiable—_

"What's going on?" asks Kaneki.

 _Go away!_ Urie wants to clamp his hands over his ears. _The bruises—the message—a stained shirt, yeah right—_

"Urie," says Kaneki, and he's pushing Urie into his floor. The shower still runs. "What's going on?"

"None of your business!" Urie erupts. He glares at Kaneki. _I hate you!_ "You just have to be a hero, don't you? You just worm your way into everyone's life, making them think you're a hero because you act like you _care_ , and you're just—you're _nothing_ —"

"And why are you lashing out at Kaneki unless you also _care_?" shouts Shirazu as he and Saiko appear in the doorway.

 _Shit_. "You're not allowed on this floor, Saiko," Urie chokes out.

"You're being an ass," says Shirazu. "Seidou's busy chastising Juuzou. I'm telling you that you're being an ass, Urie, because I care about you, okay? So don't make it about me being mean to you."

"Damn," whispers Saiko, rubbing her hand over her face. "What the hell?"

Urie glowers at Kaneki. His heart pounds. Sweat shines on Kaneki's face. "Is this about Mutsuki?"

"Don't bring him into this!" Urie shouts.

"He's my friend! I care about him!"

"Like hell you do!"

"Stop it, Urie!" pleads Saiko.

"It's true!" Urie shouts. "All that I said—you—forgot about us, all of us, just because you were—" _Who am I even talking to?_ Kaneki's face blurs with another, with a memory.

"Traumatized?" yells Saiko.

_I'm talking to both of you—Kaneki, Dad. Both, both of you—don't I matter?_

"Okay, okay, everyone _shut up, just shut up!"_ screams Shirazu. "You!" He jabs his finger at Urie. "What the hell did you find on Mutsuki's phone? Because you looked like you'd seen a ghost after you picked it up."

"It's none of your business!" Urie snaps. His heart pounds. _Mutsuki—_

"Yes, it is!" cries Saiko. "Don't you get it, Urie? We're all—we're all we have. We're friends, and here, we're like _family_. Hsiao already texted me about Aura being in a panic in the dorm last night, so I _know_ , okay?"

"They attacked that man?" whispers Kaneki, his hands over his face.

Urie gulps. _Mutsuki_ … The shower continues on. "Aura's text implies he just—saw it."

"So, Mutsuki then," Saiko says, squeezing her eyes shut.

"He hates blood!" Urie protests.

"Well," says Shirazu as he marches for their room's door and yanks it open. "He did say my shirt was stained, right? We can check for punch, or—"

"We're not going through his stuff!"

"So you don't actually care about Mutsuki?" Shirazu demands. "Because if you do, Urie, and yes, I know you love him, you should want to _help_ him. Ignoring shit never helped anyone."

 _I love Mutsuki_.

_Because he made me feel less alone._

_Did I ever make you feel less alone? Or are you still lost?_ Urie clamps his hand over his mouth.

"Sorry," whispers Kaneki. "I—care about Mutsuki too. Can I—I want to—"

"Help?" Urie rolls his eyes. "Figures."

"Urie," says Saiko from where she's crouched on the floor.

"Shit," says Shirazu.

"I don't want to—" Urie shuts his mouth. Saiko pulls a green shirt out from under the bed. It's been torn. Grass stains, mud smears, cover the back.

But there's no blood.

And then Saiko pulls out the pants Mutsuki wore last night, and there's the blood. And a zipper hanging off.

Kaneki looks as if he's about to be sick.

"Put it back," Urie orders. "We should—talk to him first."

"He's taking a shower?" questions Saiko.

Urie nods, shutting their door so Seidou won't notice they have a girl plus crime scene evidence inside.

"Did he attack Saeki or the other way around?" asks Shirazu.

Urie drops onto his bed, burying his face in his hands as he remembers the way Saeki ogled Mutsuki in art class. _Mutsuki…_ He thinks of Matsuri and his flirtations. A chill shudders through him.

Mutsuki swings the door open, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair sopping. He stops short. "Saiko?"

"Shh," hisses Shirazu. "We can't have Seidou hearing."

Mutsuki slams the door shut, running a towel over his hair. Even with the baggy clothes he wears, Urie can see how thin he is. _You'd be no match for Saeki._

_But then how could you have—_

"Mutsuki," says Saiko as Kaneki draws in a deep breath. "We know."

* * *

Mutsuki freezes. The entire dorm feels like it's tilting, like any second Shirazu's books and photos of his sister should slide of the desk, the chocolate Urie keeps under his bed should tumble away, and Mutsuki should fall. But he's still standing.

"We're not turning you in," interjects Shirazu. "We just want to hear—what happened."

Mutsuki still can't move. _Aura—_

When Aura came across them last night, it was too late. Saeki had rolled off Mutsuki, whispering about how Mutsuki made him do it, how beautiful he was, how he should hurry back to his dorm, and when he turned away to pull his pants up, Mutsuki saw the rock and swung. Aura came along with Mutsuki was naked and clawing out an unconscious Saeki's eyes.

"We found my shirt," Shirazu adds.

 _Oh_. So it wasn't Aura.

"Mutsuki." Saiko reaches out to him, and Mutsuki jerks his arm away.

"He hurt you, didn't he?" whispers Kaneki.

 _You know_. And Urie—he can barely look at Urie, who studies his knees as if they're fascinating. More fascinating than Mutsuki.

"That's self-defense," says Shirazu.

 _No, it's not_. Mutsuki's legs tremble. _You all think I'm some kind of—some kind of—_

"We don't blame you, Mutsuki," says Saiko.

"We want to help you," insists Kaneki.

 _How can you help me?_ Mutsuki wants to scream. He shakes his head, breaths coming quicker, frenetic, hurting his lungs. _I gouged his eyes—he raped me—I killed the cat—I killed, I killed, I killed._

_I am grotesque._

"Mutsuki."

He peers to his side to see Urie standing there, reaching for him. "Get away from me!"

Urie jumps back, face stung. He should explode now, because Mutsuki can't comfort him now—can't be any use to him—but he straightens, standing there, looking at Mutsuki like he _understands_ , but of course he can't, not truly.

 _Please don't hate me_. Mutsuki bursts into tears, and Urie wraps his arms around him, and Mutsuki isn't entirely sure he wants Urie holding him, but he also doesn't want to push him away. Because at least, even though it's a lie, Urie doesn't think he's grotesque.

 _Help me,_ he thinks as tears stream down his face and his chest shakes with sobs. _Someone help me._

No one's ever listened before, but here, Saiko wraps her arms around him from behind, Shirazu too, and Kaneki puts his hand on Mutsuki's shoulder.

_You can't help me._

_But you want to._


	22. Targeted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I want to warn that this chapter does heavily deal with the aftermath of the assault a few chapters ago.

"Amon?"

He pushes his biology notebook to the side and rubs his eyes. A distraction might be nice. Especially because he hasn't been doing anything remotely productive today, not towards studying, nor towards helping Kanae, who's still in questioning. All Amon can think of—all he could think of when Mado appeared this morning—was how Akira tried to kiss him, and he _stopped_ her.

_Why?_

Because he doesn't want to distract her. Because he doesn't want her father disappointed in her.

 _Or,_ Amon suspects _, in me._

Kaneki stands in his doorway, cracking his knuckles and puckering his lips like he's trying not to throw up.

"Yes?" Amon asks. "Are you okay?" _Do you need to talk?_ He worries about Kaneki. What if Arima's not able to properly help him?

"We need Shinohara," says Kaneki.

"He's down at security with Kanae," Amon says. "He said he'd message us RAs when he returns, but I haven't heard—"

"I know he's there," says Kaneki, wringing his hands now. "But we need him _now_." He peers up at Amon. "Kanae did not attack Saeki."

Amon blows out his breath. "Mado will—"

"No, I know who did it," Kaneki blurts out. "And—they want to talk to Shinohara. But only him, not Mado. There's—more at play than it seems." He cringes.

 _Oh no_. "Did you do it?" Amon whispers.

Kaneki shakes his head. "I was at the dance."

 _Oh, right._ Amon rubs his temples. His head pounds. "I can text Shinohara, but—"

"This can't wait," Kaneki interjects, grabbing Amon's arm. " _Please_."

_You want me to barge in there and tell Mado we need to take Shinohara and oh, by the way, let Kanae go because we've got the real attacker but you can't talk to the real culprit?_

"Please trust me," Kaneki requests, rubbing his chin.

 _I don't know. I don't know if I can trust you._ Amon groans. "If you would just tell me more, like what's going on—"

"I can't."

_What has he done to make you think you can't trust him?_

_He's here at this school._ And Amon remembers what Mado warned him about at the beginning of the year. _Don't turn your back. Don't forget what they are._

_And what are you, Ken Kaneki?_

He remembers Mado, Yamori, the dance. _You're someone with a kind heart in spite of what you've faced, who'd rather suffer yourself than betray a friend's confidence, damage to your own reputation be damned because that's what's_ right _to you._

"Okay," says Amon. "Give me a half hour. I'll text you when I have Shinohara, okay?"

Kaneki nods. "Hurry."

 _Don't push it._ Amon pounds down the stairs. He hesitates. Placating Mado would be a lot easier with Akira.

He remembers the damp feel of her lips against his palm, the stickiness of her lipstick. _Dammit!_ He knocks on the girls' floor door. _I want to apologize. I don't know how._

Kurona answers, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Is Akira here?"

Kurona vanishes. Akira appears within a moment, her eyes narrowing when she sees him. "What do you want?"

"I need you to help me convince your dad that Kanae is innocent because Kaneki knows who the real culprit is, though he won't tell me who it is, and also to convince your dad to let Kanae go so Shinohara can leave." Amon's face blisters from heat as he watches Akira's jaw drop.

"Who is it?"

"Kaneki didn't tell me."

"If it's from our dorm," Akira muses. "It has to be Tooru Mutsuki."

Amon shakes his head. "I'm not willing to believe that about Mutsuki just yet."

"Fair enough." Akira turns back to her floor. "Let me get my jacket."

 _You trust me,_ Amon realizes. _You trust me enough to help me, even if you don't understand_.

_You've heard about Donato, I'm sure, and still, you..._

She rejoins him, and they rush outside, cold striking their faces. Amon texts Seidou that they have an emergency and have to go out, so if he could mind the dorm, that'd be great.

 _No problem!_ Seidou texts back with a thumbs up emoji. He's probably thrilled to be in charge of the whole dorm. God forbid Juuzou finds out, because then he really will burn it down purely for kicks.

"Thank you," Amon manages. _You're good—you're inspiring—_

"Of course. We're coworkers, in a sense. We're a team." Akira keeps her head down. The sunlight glints off her golden hair.

 _You're more than that,_ Amon thinks, the realization light and free. _But now's not the time_. He grits his teeth.

"Let me talk first," says Akira, raising her hand and knocking.

Tokage answers. Amon scowls. He doesn't like the man.

"We need to speak to my father and Shinohara immediately," says Akira.

"I'm afraid I can't—"

"Do you want me to tell my father that you refused his daughter access to see him _when it's an emergency?"_ Akira shouts.

 _Wow._ Amon shakes his head, unable to keep his mouth from opening.

She smiles up at him, and then Tokage's letting them in, heading down a hallway to call for Mado.

"What is it?" demands Mado as he lopes out, Shinohara on his heels. "Akira, Amon, we're in the middle of—"

"Kanae's innocent," Amon interrupts, his face flaming as he realizes it's the first time he's contradicted Mado in front of someone else. "Kaneki claims he knows who really did it, but he wants to speak to Shinohara about it, and only Shinohara. He claims it can't wait, sir," he adds, looking at Shinohara. Sweat breaks out on his forehead.

"He's telling the truth," Akira adds, standing tall next to Amon. "My instincts tell me so, Dad."

"I can't release Kanae just yet," says Mado, his lips wobbling in shock.

"That's okay, Kureo," Shinohara says. "I'll call you. Keep Matsumae with him, get him some coffee, and don't resume questioning without me."

"It'd be against policy to," Mado grumbles.

 _But he's letting Shinohara come_ , Amon thinks. _Because he trust you, Akira._

He still can't bring himself to look at Mado as they rush out. Amon yanks his phone out and texts Kaneki. _Meet us in front of Shinohara's apartment. We're on our way._

* * *

Mutsuki feels like he's going to vomit. Saiko holds one of his hands and Urie clutches Mutsuki's elbow. The door opens, and he wants to scream, punch something, fight until he's out of here. Shirazu grips his shoulder, and Kaneki gives him a nod.

Amon and Akira disappear up the stairwell. Shinohara says nothing as he unlocks the door, although he's surely realized that Mutsuki's come to confess.

Urie and Saiko help him to a faded red couch with a black blanket draped over the back. Mutsuki shivers. Kaneki settles on the floor. Shirazu takes an armchair. Shinohara heads over to set water on for tea.

_Why are you all still here?_

"What happened?" Shinohara asks as he takes a seat. His wife vanishes into a bedroom.

Mutsuki can't take it. "I attacked Saeki."

Shinohara exhales. "Okay."

No _why_. Just acceptance.

"I saw him at the dance. He said Eto invited him on campus," whispers Mutsuki.

"She did not sign a pass for him last night," Shinohara says.

Urie scowls, because clearly he's just had the same thought as Mutsuki. _He was targeting me._

_Why? Because he thought I'm something I'm not? Because he thought I was someone his father killed?_

"He asked me to take him to Dorm Block 20, because he said Eto might be taking a student back there," Mutsuki says. _You lied the whole time, didn't you_? "He wasn't—he grabbed me—he raped me." Mutsuki covers his eyes with his hands.

Shinohara sucks in his breath.

Mutsuki peeks out through his fingers. "I couldn't get him to—to—he wouldn't let me scream." _Please don't blame me for that._

"Oh, Mutsuki," says Shinohara, his voice cracking. "We're here for you. You're not alone."

 _You believe me?_ Mutsuki blinks, pulling his hands away from his eyes. Urie's knee touches his. Saiko still holds his hand. Shirazu looks as if he's plotting the best ways to murder Saeki, and Kaneki—he looks scared for Mutsuki.

"When he—finished—and told me to go, I saw a rock and I—" Mutsuki clutches his throat. "Aura came when I was still—I wanted to _hurt_ him too—Aura pulled me away, he helped me get back to this dorm—he won't be in trouble, will he?" _I don't even remember what happened. Not until Aura came, and there was jelly and blood on my hands, my shirt was off—_

"No, he won't be," Shinohara confirms. "I'll talk to Hairu, his dorm parent."

"I'm—how much more do I have to say?" Mutsuki cries out. He wants to flatten himself. He wants to disappear. _I'm a whore._

"Mutsuki," says Shinohara. "It's okay. You don't have to give any more details, not right here. I believe you."

"I'll have to repeat it for Mado, though, won't I?" He can't imagine detailing to Mado how he was raped. _I can't do it. I can't._

"No," says Shinohara. "I'll send for a police officer trained to handle these kinds of cases, and I will stay with you while they interview you."

Mutsuki sniffs. "Here?"

"I think you should go to the nurse's station," says Shinohara. "In fact, because you're a minor, I'm going to insist on it. They can give you medications and tests you might need."

"I already showered," Mutsuki mutters. _Twice_. There can't still be evidence on his body, can there? The thought terrifies him. Maybe there's bruising or something.

"Still." The teakettle whistles. Shinohara motions for Kaneki to get it.

 _Oh._ Tests _._ Mutsuki feels panic slicing at his midsection. _You mean for—STIs?_ Saeki definitely didn't use a condom. And— _oh my God_. They can give him the morning after pill, he's sure. _I won't get pregnant from this. I can't._

_I hate you, Saeki._

"I have—my clothes," Mutsuki ekes out. Saiko put them in a bag at Mutsuki's request. The shirt, the pants, his breast binder, his underwear. "I'm sure there's evidence on that."

Shinohara nods. "That's not the focus, Tooru. We want _you_ to be okay."

 _I'm not okay. I've never been okay, and I'll never be okay_. He cries.

Shinohara eventually accompanies him to the nurse's station.

"Am I going back to—" Mutsuki gulps. "Will they arrest me?"

"No," Shinohara says, his hand gripping Mutsuki's shoulder like he's seen pictures of dads doing to their sons. "I'm sure of it."

"Everyone will know though, won't they?" Mutsuki manages.

"No. We'll do what we can."

 _If it's anything like what Re Academy did for Kaneki when he was tortured, it won't work._ Although Kaneki's still here. He's still standing. Mutsuki swallows.

Shinohara clears his throat. "Tooru, I'm going to recommend that we stop your appointments with Furuta and that you see Arima instead."

Mutsuki nods. "Okay." He doesn't like Furuta anyways.

"Please remember," Shinohara adds as he holds the door to the nurse's station open. "You are not alone."

* * *

"I'm sorry, what?" Seidou gapes at Shinohara.

"You are not to say a word to anyone," warns Shinohara. "Mutsuki needs to focus on healing right now."

"Dear God." Seidou grips his forehead. Of all people, he would never have pinned it on Mutsuki. _But to have been sexually assaulted… right on campus…_

 _And why did Kaneki go to Amon? I'm Mutsuki's RA_. And then Amon went to Akira… not him. Even though he's Mutsuki's RA. _Did they think I wouldn't want to help him? Mutsuki's a good kid._ As good as anyone from this school can be, at least. Seidou fights a scowl.

"Mutsuki's back in his room with Urie and Shirazu," Shinohara continues. "He's not going to class tomorrow. And Dr. Shiba prescribed him prophylactic medication to prevent any issues."

 _Like STDs_ , Seidou realizes. His skin crawls. _Poor kid._

"Unfortunately the nurse's station doesn't stock it, so Banjou had to drive to a hospital to pick it up. He just messaged me to tell me that he has it—would you be able to pick it up and give it to Mutsuki? You'll have to make sure he takes it as prescribed."

"Of course," Seidou says. "I'll just get my coat."

"Thank you, Seidou." Shinohara drains his teacup and takes Seidou's away, dumping them in the sink with a clatter.

 _At least_ you _trust me,_ Seidou thinks, his lunch souring in his stomach. He runs up to his floor, grasping his coat and hat. The door to Mutsuki's room is closed. _Shirazu's trustworthy,_ he assures himself. _He'll keep Mutsuki safe. So will Urie._

Seidou heads down to the lounge, where Tsukiyama sends Seidou leaping practically up to the ceiling when he shrieks. " _Kanae!"_ The violet-haired boy ducks inside, shivering. Tsukiyama races over to him. "You're okay! I mean—"

"He was telling the truth," Matsumae reports.

Tsukiyama scowls, wrapping an arm around Kanae's neck. "Of course he was."

Seidou's willing to be Tsukiyama and Kanae have both told their share of lies, but there's no point in contradicting them right now. He heads outside. The temperature's supposed to drop even more tomorrow. _Why? Does God hate us too?_

He kicks a loose stone, watching it crack against the cobblestones. _It's so unfair. Akira and Amon work so well together. And the students trust them, but they don't trust me._

_Where did I go wrong?_

Seidou tightens his hands into fists. _Why? Why? Why am I not good enough?_

He arrives at the nurse's station with a chill lingering in his lungs and a numb sensation spreading through his chest. "I'm here to pick up—"

"Ah, Seidou!" calls Banjou as he hurries by. The sound of puking echoes from the hallway. Seidou could gag himself. _Yuck_. "You can pick it up in Dr. Kanou's office. He's straight down the hall, on your left. Go right in."

Seidou nods, striding down the hallway, tiled with salmon squares and reeking of too much cleanliness. He pushes on the oak door with a gold sign reading KANOU on it. It swings open.

"Yes, I'm aware," Dr. Kanou says, reclining in a black leather chair, his back to Seidou as he peers out the window at a pine tree waving in the wind. "I'll have what you need in the morning. Yes, I know that's a setback, but just because he's not going to work out doesn't mean I won't find another student to—"

 _What?_ Seidou freezes.

"Of course. You may have lost another young mind, but I already have another one."

_The hell?_

Dr. Kanou swivels around with a creak. His lips curve when he sees Seidou.

Seidou wants to run, because whatever Dr. Kanou's talking about sounds creepy as fuck. But he needs Mutsuki's medication. He needs his charges' and Akira, Amon, and Shinohara's trust. "I'm here for—"

"Tooru Mutsuki's medication." Dr. Kanou gets to his feet and picks up a white paper bag from his desk. It crinkles. He walks past Seidou and shuts the door.

"What—" Seidou starts.

"You're not going to repeat anything you just heard," Dr. Kanou says.

"I—"

"Not that anyone would believe you," says Dr. Kanou. "It's rather interesting, don't you think, that a boy like you even got a position as an RA?"

"I'm the best in my class!" Seidou shoots back. "Or I was, last year—"

"No, you were second best, behind Koutarou Amon, and tied with Nishiki Nishio. This year you're behind Akira Mado as well, and Shuu Tsukiyama." Dr. Kanou rubs his chin. "Academic grades don't determine what gets you in to be an RA, Seidou. Mado and Amon got in because Mado is Kureo's daughter, and Amon has a friend in Kureo Mado. Your history is worse than either of theirs. You have a friend, too."

"What?" Seidou ekes out. He wants out of here. The walls are so white, and they're closing in on him. He struggles to gulp in air.

"The gas explosion that killed your parents. You _are_ listed as the one who left the stove on that morning."

Seidou bites down on his fingertip. "It was an accident!" _Mommy! Daddy..._

 _I love you. It was a mistake—I turned it off a million times_. And the one time he didn't, some idiot lit a cigarette, and accidental or not, the police sent him here. Seina won't see him.

 _I miss you._ His shoulders slump.

"I believe you, which is why I recommended you and pushed your application forward," says Dr. Kanou.

 _You?_ Seidou gapes up at him. "Why?"

"Because you have so much potential," Dr. Kanou says simply.

Seidou exhales. _It's not all ruined. I haven't ruined my life. I can still make my parents proud, wherever they are now_. He knows Amon's a Christian, but Seidou doesn't know what he believes. He does believe they're somewhere, though. He can't handle the alternative thought, that a son could have snuffed his parents out of existence simply through stupidity.

"I'm going to need you to repay the favor, though," says Dr. Kanou.

"What do you mean?" Seidou ekes out. _You're creeping me out._

"I want you to collect packages and drop them off in your mailbox for someone," Dr. Kanou says. "That's all."

"Like Ayato used to do?" _You're out of your damn mind_.

"Do you want me to forward the colleges you want to attend your actual records instead of the ones I doctored that don't name you as the cause behind your parents' deaths?"

"You—" _You've been after me,_ Seidou realizes.

_I'm trapped._

And there's nothing he can do about it. If he goes to Shinohara, he has no proof. _He'll never believe me._

"I'll text you with details," Dr. Kanou tells him, caressing his shoulder. He shoves the bag of pills into Seidou's hands. "Tell Mutsuki to take the anti-nausea pill first, then the rest a half-hour later."

_I'm being forced into this._

_I have no choice._

He doesn't feel any better.

Seidou opens the door to find Kurona Yasuhisa waiting outside. "Hey, Takizawa," she says.

Panic douses him. _Did you hear?_

"Kurona?" calls Dr. Kanou. "Come in."

 _Are you working with him too?_ Seidou's eyes ache from opening so wide. Kurona tosses him a sad look before she shuts the door.

Banjou waves and calls goodbye to him as he stumbles down the hallway. _What am I going to do?_ Seidou wonders as the wind lashes him.

_There's nothing I can do._

_I have nowhere to turn._


	23. Glass Houses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! A warning again for discussion of violence and child abuse in this chapter.

_He told me that I have a soul_

_How does he know?_

_"Valjean's Soliloquy," Les Misérables_

* * *

Mutsuki wakes up gasping, batting at air.

 _No one's here._ Shirazu's snores rumble through the room, but _he's_ not here, Mutsuki's head isn't below water, and he can gulp as much air as his lungs can hold.

 _He's still following me_. Even if he's dead, he haunts Mutsuki's mind. And Saeki… nausea rolls through Mutsuki. He clutches the blankets to his mouth and tries to breathe. It's what Arima told him to do. One breath in. One breath out. _I'm here. I'm here._

His stomach throbs and Mutsuki bites back a curse. It's a day early. Banjou did warn him this could happen. _Fuck_. He turns his phone's flashlight on under his blankets and wants to stab the mattress. _Why am I such a mess?_

Mutsuki drags himself to the bathroom and then back. He crouches down and tugs at the sheets.

"Mutsuki?" comes a groggy voice. "What're you doing?"

"Go back to sleep," Mutsuki mutters.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He wishes he could use his flashlight, but he doesn't want to wake Shirazu up and he wants Urie to roll back over.

But no. He hears Urie's feet padding over to him. "Oh."

"Go back to sleep," Mutsuki repeats, knotting his fist around the sheets.

"I could help you, you know," Urie says, reaching down and helping unhook the sheet from the mattress. "You can just ask. I don't mind."

Mutsuki squints, peering up. He can't make out Urie's face, if he's annoyed or exhausted or sincere. "You don't have to."

"I want to." Urie curls the sheet up under his arm. "To the laundry room?"

Mutsuki nods, stuffing his feet, sockless, into his sneakers as they head down the stairs to the basement. Urie's silent as they creep into the room, Mutsuki fumbling to turn on the light. Mutsuki winces, hand shielding his eyes.

"Too bright," Urie ekes out.

Mutsuki lowers his hand. Cobwebs wrap around the corners and slink across the ceiling. Dust bunnies skitter across the tiled floor, and a row of washers and dryers sits to the left. Mutsuki takes the sheets and dumps them in. Urie grabs an orange container of detergent from the shelf above and pours some of the sticky blue liquid inside.

"You should go back to sleep," Mutsuki says as he lowers the lid and cranks the machine on. "It's going to be like two hours to wash and dry everything." And they have class in the morning.

"No," says Urie. "I don't mind sitting here with you. We can play word games, or—"

 _You_ are _sincere_. Mutsuki's surprised. Heat blasts from the room, so at least it's not cold. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Banjou warned me this could happen—with the medication they gave me." It's been two weeks, but Mutsuki still wants to vomit when he thinks about what Saeki did to him and what he did to Saeki. He leans his back against a dryer. "At least I'm not pregnant." _You think I'm a freak, don't you?_

Urie swallows. "That's good. Are you in pain?"

Mutsuki shrugs. "It comes and goes."

"How do people do it?" Urie wonders.

"You mean how do _girls_ do it?" He's trying to bait Urie. _I'm grotesque_. "I'm a—" Mutsuki stops himself, fists tightening.

"Mutsuki." Urie makes to grab for his fists, and then stops himself. "I don't know what you were about to say, but unless it was _'good person'_ or _'Urie's friend,'_ it's not true. ' _Saiko's or Shirazu's friend'_ works too."

 _Are you actually trying to_ joke _with me, Kuki Urie?_ He cranes his neck to look at Urie. _But you don't know._

He remembers a bathtub full of water, his head shoved under.

Crying alone in a room, screaming for Mommy and Daddy, and they all said he did it, but he didn't remember so why were they lying?

A cat in a jar. A knife, sparkling in his desk drawer.

"I'm grotesque," Mutsuki ekes out, clinging to the smooth metal of the empty dryer.

Urie's jaw drops. "Mut—wha—you are _not!"_

Anger flares. "Yes, I am!" _You don't know; you don't know!_

"Why—what makes you think—" Urie, for the first time since Mutsuki's known him, struggles to speak. "What that bastard did is—"

"Not my fault? Then why does this keep happening to me?" Mutsuki shouts. "Because it's happened before—" The air he gulps in scrapes his throat, burns his lungs. "My father used to hold my head underwater until I said how he was the _best daddy ever_ convincingly enough to make him let me breathe, and then he'd 'reward' me, and that was always— _sex_. And my mother would do jack shit to stop it, and my brother wouldn't intervene—" Mutsuki's voice climbs, and he clamps his hand over his mouth. _Why?_

_Why did you just stand there, you bastards?_

A clang echoes. Mutsuki jumps to see that Urie's sent his fist into an empty washer. He turns back to Mutsuki, face white.

_You see now, don't you?_

_I am grotesque._

"Mutsuki, that man—your father—he's the worst kind of—" Urie presses his fists to the side of his temples. "You didn't deserve—you—"

Mutsuki shakes his head. "There's something about me, isn't there? It's _me_ , it's—" _There's a reason both Saeki and my father used me for sex._

"Hell no!" Urie insists, his face growing almost as purple as his hair. It looks like he's trying not to explode, nose and eyebrows twitching, lips trembling. "I—"

"I killed the cat," Mutsuki interrupts.

"What?"

"The cat they found—the one they blamed Juuzou for—it wasn't Juuzou. It was—I don't remember—I lose parts of my memory and I won't remember having done parts of my homework, or having gone to class, and this time—I woke up and I was in the woods with a dead cat." Mutsuki presses his lips together. _Now, you'll get it._

"You?" Urie shakes his head. "But you hate blood."

"It was the same with Saeki, right?" Mutsuki chokes out. "I can't remember. I _don't_ remember what happened between him rolling off me, seeing a rock, and then Aura screaming my name. I'm fucking _crazy_." He laughs, but the laugh sputters and dies into a wheeze, and Mutsuki crumples to the floor. Grit from the concrete floor digs into his ankles. _Why won't anyone help me?_

_Mommy, where are you?_

And this time, something warm wraps around him. Arms. A head presses into his shoulder, and he hears Urie's voice: "It's painful being alone, isn't it? It's _agonizing_." Urie's voice catches.

_You're quoting me?_

_You're ridiculous_. But Mutsuki's chest throbs.

Urie pulls back and peers at Mutsuki, his brow creased. "I don't think you're grotesque."

"How can you not?" Mutsuki presses. _Are you sure? How can you be sure?_

"Have you told anyone about these—memory things?"

"Arima says I have a dissociative disorder." Mutsuki looks away, focusing on a spider spinning a web in a corner. The washer hums behind them.

"Okay," says Urie. "That's—okay. You're still—"

"Huh?" Mutsuki spins around to stare at him. "What if when I dissociate I become a—sociopath, Urie? Based on Saeki—" _And my family._

"I'm not sympathetic to that bastard," cuts in Urie, clenching his jaw. "I'm only sad because clearly you're upset about it."

"But that poor cat—it didn't do anything—I don't think—" Mutsuki bites back a sob.

"I don't want you to feel alone," Urie repeats. "You're getting help, right? Arima's one of the best psychiatrists to exist. My dad used to talk about him."

 _Your dad?_ Mutsuki peers at Urie. _You never mention him._

_We both still have secrets, don't we?_

But Urie's looking at him with eyes determined, and his hands interlace with Mutsuki's, and there's not a speck of disgust on his face.

_Do I deserve this?_

He drops his head forward, and Urie holds him. _Thank you,_ he thinks, even if he can't say it, and when he pulls back he thinks that's okay, because Urie heard him anyways.

The washer buzzes, and Mutsuki yelps. Urie snorts, hauling himself up and pulling Mutsuki with him. They dump the sheets into the dryer and set the timer.

"Very cute," comes a voice behind them, followed by a familiar giggle. "So it was you, huh, Mutsuki?"

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Urie snarls.

Juuzou leans against the door, biting back a laugh. It's just so ridiculous. _Tooru Mutsuki?_ "I heard you sneaking downstairs and wondered what was up."

Mutsuki shrinks. Urie takes a step forward. "I swear to God, if you breathe a word about _any_ of this—"

"I wouldn't!" Juuzou shoots back.

"Why not?" croaks Mutsuki. "I—"

"Were in a dissociative state?" Juuzou shrugs. "It's over. It's done. The cat's dead." His heart twangs as he remembers the jar. "You're not someone I want to get in trouble over it."

Urie narrows his eyes. Clearly he doesn't entirely believe Juuzou.

Juuzou saunters into the room, hoisting himself on top of an empty dryer and swinging his legs. "I like you, Mutsuki. And I don't think you're any more grotesque than I am."

Urie scowls, his arm slashed in front of Mutsuki in an almost protective stance.

 _You like him, don't you_? "Sorry about what happened to you," Juuzou says. "I relate more than you might think. I beat people until they bled and almost died, too. Some of them might have died. I don't know."

"I don't think you're helping," Urie hisses.

"What do you mean?" asks Mutsuki, compassion on his face.

Juuzou shrugs. "You know the group that kidnapped Kaneki? What if I said there are hundreds of traffickers all over this goddamned city, and one of them raised me?" He flicks the strings embedded in his skin. "I don't know who my biological parents were. Probably addicts or something."

"You—" Mutsuki starts.

"No, she didn't sell me," Juuzou says. "She said I was too cute for that." He bites his lip until he tastes blood. "She just had me welcome clients and then punish the ones who went too far or didn't pay or were dissatisfied and dissatisfying." He remembers chasing them out into the cold, snow falling down, a knife in his hand.

Shinohara was one of the officers who raided the place. Juuzou remembers now how the building shook with screams, how half-clothed men and women scrambled to get out while he waited for his mama to come for him, standing in that hallway with door open and the winter wind blustering in and icing his legs. Blood dried on his hands and on his cheek when someone let out a shout. " _Someone's back here!"_ The sound of a gun cocking echoed, and, Juuzou—then Rei—let out a giggle, because he'd heard that sound in movies and it sounded so similar in real life.

" _Put it down!" ordered Shinohara, a look of shock on his face as he shined a flashlight at Rei, clad in a dress with lace, wearing lipstick and a bow in his hair. "It's a child."_

" _Where's Mama?" he asked when the officer came closer. Shinohara's eyes widened in shock when he realized that Rei was covered in blood._

He promised Rei could pick out a photograph of his mother at the police station. When Rei got there and pointed her out in a series of face shots, Shinohara's face whitened.

They sent Rei for a medical exam that made a lot of doctors whisper outside his room, and finally one was sent to ask him what happened to his body, and Rei lashed out and clawed at his face until they had to put him in restraints until Shinohara came and ordered them to let him go. And then they interviewed him, and when he said he worked at the brothel, they were horrified when he said he stabbed people and seemed scared of him when he laughed about it. But laughing about it earned him Good Boy Points with Mama. Here, they treated him like a freak.

Except Shinohara, who visited him almost every day. He told Rei he could choose whatever name he wanted, and he chose Juuzou. When Shinohara came to work at Re Academy two years after Juuzou started, Juuzou was happy.

"Everyone thinks I'm disgusting, too," Juuzou offers Mutsuki.

"I don't think so," whispers Mutsuki.

 _Liar. You think you're disgusting, too_. Juuzou shrugs. "Where did you get the jar? For the cat?"

"Do you want to talk about that?" Urie asks.

"Tokage gave it to me," Mutsuki says.

"Really?" Juuzou hops off the dryer. _I didn't figure it to be him_.

"What?" Urie demands.

Mutsuki closes his eyes. "Tokage gave it to me—he told me to stuff it in—he gave me a better knife, for next time."

" _Has_ there been a next time?" asks Urie.

Mutsuki shakes his head, wrapping his arms around himself. "The knife's in my desk drawer. It's still clean. I don't want to look at it. It makes me sick."

The dryer whirs. Juuzou taps on the vibrating top.

"He said I had potential," adds Mutsuki, eyes widening as if it's something he just remembered.

"For what?" Urie asks. "I mean—you do have potential, Mutsuki, a lot of it, but—"

"I don't know. He was walking with someone else and said it to him, but I didn't see who it was—it was too dark."

"He's probably involved with the traffickers," says Juuzou. "He thinks they can use you."

"What makes you say that?" Urie demands. He clutches Mutsuki's elbow. "I won't let that happen!"

"Not as a victim, dummy," says Juuzou. "In case you haven't realized, they manipulated my roommate into smuggling things on and off campus."

"But they caught Yoshimura," Mutsuki points out.

"I don't think Yoshimura's guilty," states Juuzou. "I heard the name 'owl' many times growing up, and that's who I've heard Shinohara saying they think Yoshimura is. Except I don't think so."

"What do you mean?"

"So, some staff are involved with those groups," says Juuzou. "We're all forgotten, aren't we? We're the kids no one cares about, and no one cares about what happens to us. Except for a few people like Shinohara and Arima, or so I've heard. Everyone knows Rize Kamishiro did not run away when she left the hospital. They hooked her with drugs and planned to get her long before she ever wound up in the hospital. Besides," Juuzou adds, leaning forwards. "I recognize her. She was raised like me." In some ways, at least.

"So they target kids to sell drugs to, to recruit them?"

"And to get them selling for them," Juuzou confirms. "Or just working for them, like Ayato. Then they feel welcomed and like they have a place to belong. They go with them willingly."

"So they might go after me?" whispers Mutsuki.

"They might," says Juuzou. "But I think we can figure out who's actually working for them."

"Don't they have video evidence of Yoshimura?"

"Yeah, but he's refused to comment further on it, according to Shinohara," says Juuzou. "I think he's trying to protect someone."

"How can we figure—" Urie starts.

"My roommate knows some things," says Juuzou. "Ayato." Juuzou knows Kaneki and Tsukiyama are trying to hire a private investigator to find Rize. Except thus far they've had no success, which is good. They'd be eaten alive.

"What are you suggesting?" questions Mutsuki.

"Find who's really doing it," says Juuzou, a smile carving into his face. "I don't think it'll be that hard. But everyone's focused on Yoshimura, so no one's really looking."

"Isn't Tokage—" starts Urie.

"Tokage's a stooge, and is definitely working with someone," says Juuzou, pointing at Mutsuki. "You even said so."

"So we turn Tokage in," says Urie.

"Mutsuki doesn't want to confess about the cat, and that isn't proof," Juuzou counters.

"What do you suggest then? Looking into whomever Tokage has tea with?" Urie snipes.

"No," says Juuzou. "I think Ayato's our best lead. And he owes me, and he wants to redeem himself for Hinami's sake, so."

"Hinami?" questions Mutsuki, wrinkling his nose.

"He has a big old crush," Juuzou says, clasping his hands. _It's kinda cute._

"Oh."

"We can work out plans in the morning." Juuzou hops down.

"What are you trying to prove, Juuzou?" calls Urie.

"Nothing," Juuzou answers, twirling his fingers through his hair. _Nothing's_ not the right answer, but he's not sure what is the right answer either. "Night."

"Mutsuki, can I take the knife from your drawer?" asks Urie. "Just in case."

Juuzou raises his eyebrows, loitering by the door.

"Yes."

"Okay." Urie sighs. " _Now_ do you want to play a word game?"


	24. Illusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Enjoy our bumbling investigators and their leaping to conclusions, Naki's introduction, and tragedy hitting someone over the head—quite literally.

"You want my help with what?" Ayato demands, pushing his hair back from his face.

"You know Yoshimura's innocent," croons Juuzou, perching on his bed like he's going to leap across the room onto Ayato's. And he better not.

"I don't know that," Ayato retorts, taking his earring out to clean it.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't." Now it's just about sticking it to Juuzou. He can't cave. Not now.

But he remembers Touka, and Kaneki. They believe Yoshimura's innocent. He's heard Touka talking to Yomo about a letter Yoshimura sent Kaneki.

Juuzou snickers and hums as he pulls out a string of red thread. "So you think your sister's replacement father is actually a wolf in sheep's clothing, do you, Ayato?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth! Maybe he had—a reason, or—" Ayato clenches his fists.

_Protect your sister. Promise me._

_You were supposed to always be there!_ Ayato screams at the memory. _You broke your promise—you left us—why should I? Why should I?_

 _Because_ you _care about Touka_. She didn't turn away from him even after what he did to Kaneki—she still hugged him. She still tries to talk to him.

Ayato swallows. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't know," Juuzou says with a shrug. "Can you think of a way to trap whoever's really responsible?"

"Yeah," says Ayato, even as guilt blows its hot, foul breath over him. _If I get caught, Touka might never forgive me for this one._

He doesn't have another choice. _I don't want to be this person_. "Can you cover for me tonight?"

Juuzou grins and waves. "Want someone to come with you?"

"No." It's the answer Juuzou expects, even though Ayato wants to beg for someone to come with him. Anyone. Although corralling Juuzou would probably be more trouble than it's worth.

He taps out a text on his phone.

 _LONG TIME NO TALK,_ comes the response. _Ya im around tonite._

 _Great_. Ayato finds himself distracted through all his classes, and through his study session with Hinami, which has become the highlight of his days. _She's so pretty_. Her yellow sweater fits her perfectly.

 _Why hasn't this place and what happened to your parents destroyed you yet? What's your secret?_ She laughs as he points out an embarrassing spelling error in her history paper. "Houji would have killed me!" She wraps her arms around him, and Ayato can feel his face coloring, and oh dear God _no_ , Kaneki and Touka step inside just in time to see Hinami pulling away.

"Hey!" Hinami waves.

Kaneki's eyes narrow at Ayato, who flicks his earring and ignores him.

 _Whatever destroyed me won't destroy you, Touka,_ Ayato promises his sister. Promises _her_ , not his pathetic excuse of a father.

After dinner, he slips back out. Juuzou sings as he arranges a bundle of clothing under Ayato's covers. "Good luuuuck."

Ayato says nothing as he heads towards the staircase. It looks like Seidou's not back yet either. _Whatever_.

He jogs across campus, pulling his hoodie over his head. A cold drizzle falls. Ayato's teeth chatter as he finds the familiar oak tree, swinging himself over the fence and into the alleyway for the first time since the night Yamori went batshit on Kaneki. His boots squish in the mud and sand lining the streets.

A mid-week night is less wild than a Friday night. Ayato shoves his hands in his pockets as he makes his way down the street. He ducks his head as he passes Helter-Skelter, where, through the window, he sees Itori and Uta drinking.

A hand lands on his shoulder.

Ayato spins around. _Hinami?_

She glares at him, mud splashed on her teal rainboots. "You're really doing this?"

Ayato's jaw hangs open. "I—"

"So you have no regrets from what—"

"You _followed_ me?"

"Why not? I was carrying my laundry back up when—someone told me they saw you leaving—"

"Who?" Ayato demands. "Saiko? Kurona?"

"A teacher who said I could stop you from getting in trouble." Hinami crosses her arms.

 _You make no sense_. "You're in my way," Ayato says, his heart hurting. _You can't follow me here._ "Go away."

"You're a coward."

Ayato freezes. Her words cut into his stomach. "Hinami, I—it's not what you think."

She shakes her head. "Then what is it? You're going back to talk to the people—the people you used to work with, the ones who attacked Kaneki and—"

Ayato grits his teeth. "Yes, but it's not—like that!" _I'm not that person anymore! Don't look at me like that!_

"Then what's it like?"

"I don't want to say just yet," Ayato says, his heart thumping. "Can we talk tomorrow?"

"We _can_. I'm just not sure if we will." Hinami's voice catches.

"Don't tell my sister!" he pleads, grabbing her shoulder.

"You're better than this, Ayato."

 _No, I'm perfect for this_. " _Don't_ follow me," he barks, turning away because he's afraid she'll cry and he hates himself for it. He pushes open the door to Aogiri Tree and doesn't hear footsteps behind him. Loneliness wraps around him. _I'm sorry, Hinami._

"Well?" asks Roma as she leans over the counter. "Look who it is."

"Ayato!" shrieks Naki, the bizarre man wearing his ever-present white suit. He pushes past Miza and throws his arms around him. "It's been so long!"

"You were gone first," Ayato grinds out. _Don't hug me, you idiot!_

"But I'm _back_ now," says Naki, throwing his arms out. He frowns. "I heard there was a disaster—" Tears fill his eyes. "Yamori. He's in prison—he's not doing well, I'm sure—"

"He kidnapped and assaulted one of my friends!" Ayato shouts. "He would have sold him if—"

"You tried to rob this 'friend,'" points out Miza, dropping her arm on Naki's shoulder. Naki sobs into his hands.

"Well, I may not be a good friend, but this friend is a good friend," Ayato retorts.

"Huh?" Miza frowns.

"And now one of my friends is kidnapped by the police!" wails Naki. "He's the only who ever—didn't think I was stupid—who gave me birthday gifts—"

"I don't think you're stupid," says Miza, a wine stain down the front of her shirt.

Ayato opts to keep his mouth shut on that one. "Well, we might be able to help."

"How?" demands Naki, tears streaming down his face. His blond hair's greasier than Ayato remembers, slicked back now.

"I want to know who Yamori's real contact was within the school," says Ayato. "I don't think it was Yoshimura."

Naki shakes his head. "That old man? Of course not."

"Well, if the real contact is caught, maybe Yamori could cut a deal to testify against them," Ayato says, his heart pounding in time with the music. He knows nothing about the legal system and doubts they would actually offer Yamori a deal.

"I don't actually work with that," Naki ekes out. "I don't sell people. Yamori did because he said he had to, but I don't—"

"But you smuggled official documents and money—"

" _For_ Yamori, on his orders. And someone else's orders too," says Naki. "They said you should work with me instead of with Yamori. Said they'd trust me because I went to Re Academy too and would want to help you because I know what a shit school it is." He reaches across the bar and grabs a beer. Roma scowls. "But I gave Yamori all the info. He used it for—well. Whatever he used it for."

"Who's _they?"_ Ayato presses.

"Not a teacher. I don't think." Naki frowns.

" _Who?"_ Ayato is ready to strangle him. _Is it Mado? Furuta? Ui?_

Naki glugs down his beer. "An author—Sh-Sen Takatsuki. I never met her, though—but she sent me a signed copy of her book. Yamori read it to me—the words are too complicated for me."

"Okay. Thank you," says Ayato. _But it_ has _to be a teacher. An employee at least._

_A pseudonym... but why would a successful author work at this shithole?_

"Thank—" Naki gapes at him, tears filling his eyes.

Ayato gulps. "I have one more question. You might not know, but—the Fueguchis. What happened to them over the summer. Were they really working with traffickers?"

"I remember hearing about them," says Miza.

Naki shakes his head. "I don't know, but from what I heard—they were just trying to help a girl who was sick."

"They were trying to get her help because she had a really bad addiction," Miza puts in. "Their names came up in an investigation, though." She purses her lips. "The girl died anyways. Terrible what happened to them. There was no need to get so violent, especially with the wife. I don't see why they think death solves anything."

Naki's eyes water. "And now they have Yamori…"

 _Are you this stupid? Yamori thinks his life matters more than everybody else's. Even yours_. Arima could write a book out of studying this guy. Still, Ayato nods and thanks him again. _Hinami, your parents really were innocent._

_Will knowing that hurt her or comfort her?_

_Sen Takatsuki_. Kaneki has a book signed by her—Hinami gave it to him—Ayato bites back a curse as he hurries through the streets, refusing to look at Helter-Skelter for fear one of the teachers will catch him. _But she's not a teacher._

_Is she?_

His shoulders slump. He reaches the side street and stops.

Hinami waits there. "Don't laugh," she snaps as he approaches. "I'm too short to climb over even with the dumpster."

 _Too—oh my God._ Ayato does laugh. She refuses to look at him. "Hinami," Ayato chokes out. "Please. I need your help." _I'll tell her about her parents later._

"With what?"

She didn't turn him down. Now Ayato's eyes burn— _no, no, I will not be like that idiot Naki!_

"Where did you get that signed copy of Sen Takatsuki's book?"

Hinami's eyes widen under the streetlights. Her hair sticks out. The rain starts to fall harder. "I promised not to tell. I didn't steal it—it was legal—"

"I know," Ayato cuts in. An idea starts to form in his mind. "Hinami, does Sen Takatsuki live in town?"

Hinami nods.

"Do they work here?"

Hinami nods again.

Ayato closes his eyes. He remembers visiting Yoshimura's apartment, the photograph he had of Ukina, his late wife. He never mentioned a child until the letter Touka told him about. And he remembers Ukina's smile, the shape of her face. "It's Eto, isn't it?"

"Why?"

 _That's a confirmation_. He opens them to find her staring at him, still shivering, and he tells her what Juuzou asked him to do, what he heard from Naki.

Hinami cries, but she doesn't yell. Ayato pulls himself up onto the fence and reaches down to pull Hinami up. She's light, and when his hands clench around her waist, his pulse quickens.

_You believe me._

"Well," says Hinami when they both land back inside Re Academy. "I guess we have to talk to Eto tomorrow."

* * *

Hinami texts Ayato once the email's sent. _I'll let you know as soon as she responds._

"That's not evidence," complains Juuzou.

"It will be," says Ayato. "After I talk to her tomorrow."

"She's just going to confess to you? What, are you having an affair with her or something?"

"Gross!" Ayato glares at Juuzou. "I have a plan."

"So we'll enact phase 2 tomorrow," proclaims Juuzou.

Ayato nods. "Tell Urie and Mutsuki what's happening."

"Will do," Juuzou promises, rolling over in his bed. Ayato lies down in his. _Tomorrow I'll make things right_.

 _Tomorrow I'll make you proud_.

The day dawns with white billowing clouds and the promise of a blizzard at night. Ayato meets Hinami in the lounge, and she slides him her tablet without a greeting.

_Hinami,_

_It would be my pleasure to talk with you in my office after school today. Feel free to stop by!_

_Eto_

Ayato swallows and looks at Hinami. "We'll both go?"

She nods.

The day passes in a blur. Ayato can't concentrate, especially not in literature. _You let your own father take the fall?_ he wonders as he looks at her. _Why? And why would he let that happen?_

When the last bell rings, he and Hinami hurry back to the literature building, where they find Tsukiyama pacing outside. "What's going on?" asks Ayato.

"Kanae smartmouthed Eto in class," Tsukiyama. "So Eto wanted to talk to him."

Ayato glances at Hinami. She squares her shoulders. "Well, we had an appointment with Eto. I'm sure she'll let Kanae go."

Tsukiyama nods. Hinami bounds up the stairs, Ayato on her heels as they head to the offices, adjacent to the literature classroom. "Should we—" Ayato begins.

Hinami knocks. "If she can't see us, let her tell us herself."

Ayato takes out his phone and dials Juuzou, leaving the phone on. Hinami types a text into her own phone, but he isn't sure to whom.

Eto slides her door open. "Hinami! And Ayato. Lovely to see you. I'm just talking to Kanae for a moment—"

"This is really important," Hinami blurts out. Her voice trembles.

Eto blinks. "Well. Come in." She steps back. Kanae sits in front of Eto's desk, his head bowed and eyes obscured by his purple hair, knuckles white from clutching the armrests so tightly.

"We know you're Yoshimura's daughter," Ayato bursts the moment the door shuts behind them. "And we know your father took the blame for your wrongdoings—"

"Huh?" Kanae gapes up at them, eyes red.

"Yoshimura contributed to half my DNA, yes," Eto says, adjusting her glasses. "But I don't know if that makes him a father to me."

"But he took the blame for you," Ayato insists.

"For what?" Eto's lips curve.

"You know," Ayato says. _She needs to say it._

Eto shrugs. "Oh, don't leave, Kanae," she says as Kanae makes to get up. "You may want to be here for the show. I think that'd make it even more entertaining."

"What are you talking about?" ekes out Hinami.

"I mean, I know about what Kaneki tried to get you to do, Ayato," Eto says. "When he wanted you to make the right decision. I know you're trying to record me. Show me your phone."

Ayato freezes.

"If you try to run," Eto says. "I'll have Mado corner the three of you."

Kanae leaps to his feet, panic on his features.

"Don't you mean Tokage?" Ayato fires back. _That's whom Juuzou said…_

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Ayato, Hinami," Eto says. "Tell me, why did it take you so long to come to this conclusion? I rather thought it'd be sooner, especially with your brain, Hinami."

 _Is this good enough as a confession?_ Ayato wonders.

"Your knowledge is incomplete," Eto informs them, sliding between the desks, all perfectly lined up. "Give me your phone, Ayato."

"Even your father knows you did it," Ayato says. She steps forward. He jumps back, shoving Hinami behind him.

"Does he? Or does he just have access to the same incomplete information that you do?" Eto throws her head back and laughs as she moves further away again, to the left, to the _door_. "But yes, Ayato, for anyone who's listening on the other end of your recorded phone call, I was the one receiving money and smuggling documents off campus and out of your mailbox."

 _Just like that?_ Hinami lets out a gasp.

 _But it's not that simple. She wasn't supposed to know. We weren't supposed to get caught._ Ayato takes another step back.

She's blocking their way to the door.

_We are fucked._

"Where's your calvary?" asks Eto, covering her mouth as she laughs.

"You can't hurt us," Hinami squeaks.

"Oh, Hinami sweetheart, of course I—"

The door flies open, slamming into Eto. She grabs a desk to steady herself.

"Oh—" Tsukiyama gapes at her. " _Pardon_ —"

"Don't let her get away!" screams Ayato.

"Shuu!" shrieks Kanae as Eto whirls around.

"Watch out!" Hinami yells, lunging at their teacher. Eto reaches out, but Ayato knocks Hinami out of the way. Eto runs. Kanae grabs a giant anthology of Shakespeare's tragedies and slams it against Eto's head.

 _How did you get across the room so fast?_ Ayato gapes at Kanae, who crouches over Eto, still clutching the book.

"Kanae," breathes Tsukiyama.

Eto groans from her spot on the floor, her glasses shattered over her left eye. She coughs. "No need to slam it down again, Kanae."

Kanae hesitates. Shouts echo below, including one voice that sounds very much like Mado. _You came through, Juuzou,_ Ayato thinks in relief.

"You know," Eto mutters, her voice slurred but her eye sharp and chilling. "For a girl, you do have the strength of a boy."

* * *

"Kanae hit you, not Hinami, bitch," Ayato snarls.

Tsukiyama still can't fathom what's happening. Kanae's just attacked their teacher—and Eto's a criminal? _What did she do?_ Hinami had texted to come up in five minutes unless she texted him not to, so he listened.

"I know exactly who hit me. Your act's pretty convincing to people who don't care to see you as anything other than the boy you pretend to be," Eto returns.

 _What?_ Tsukiyama's gaze snaps to Kanae, expecting to see his friend roll his eyes or snap back. But instead Kanae's eyes are wide and terrified, his lips frozen, his face the color of milk.

"Must've been awful to have the boy you love refuse to look at you long enough to even notice you're a girl," Eto adds, closing her eyes. "I'm tired."

"Hey, leave him alone!" Ayato shouts.

Tsukiyama tenses. And that's when Hinami gasps, and Tsukiyama realizes that Kanae's in tears, and he's running, over Eto, past Tsukiyama, straight out the door.

 _Kanae's—a woman?_ Tsukiyama wracks his brain, trying to remember a time when he's seen Kanae so much as without a shirt. _I always thought he was just a prude._ He comes up empty.

Tsukiyama rushes for the door, but he freezes when he sees Haisaki standing there, handcuffs in his hands. He kneels and puts them on Eto.

"You're all okay!" Shinohara races over to them. Beyond him, Tsukiyama sees Uta grab Kanae's arm, presumably telling him he has to stay. Juuzou, Mutsuki, and Urie all stand at the end of the hallway, mouths open.

"The call was streaming to Juuzou," Ayato explains weakly. "Who recorded it."

"And that was really bloody stupid!" Shinohara snaps, pointing his finger at all of them.

"Tsukiyama wasn't really involved," Hinami insists.

 _Thanks,_ Tsukiyama thinks.

"Fine, then."

 _Where is Mado?_ Tsukiyama hears his voice and spots him through the crowd. Haisaki hauls Eto to her feet. She laughs again as she passes Tsukiyama.

 _Kanae_ … Tsukiyama spots him, hunched over where Uta told him to sit on the floor, refusing to look at anyone. Tsukiyama worms his way through the crowd. _Kanae—_

Mado hangs up. "That was Furuta. He says he found similar—incriminating information in Tokage's desk."

"Tokage?" snaps Arima, jogging over, his face pale. Eto arches her eyebrows. She's going to have a serious black eye. _Damn, Kanae_.

"Furuta locked him in his office," Mado says. "I presume you've got her under control, Haisaki?"

Haisaki nods.

"Good. I'll go take care of my traitorous bastard second-in-command. And Arima, tell Matsuri this is exactly what I knew would happen when he hired that good-for-nothing—"

"Kanae," Tsukiyama says as he finally reaches, crouching down in front of him. "I—" _Is it even true?_

Kanae turns his head away from him, and a rock sinks in Tsukiyama's stomach. He notices Kanae's sweet lips, his— _her?_ —huge eyes, the soft slope of her nose. _You are a girl_.

Maybe. Maybe not. Tsukiyama bites down on his tongue. He needs to talk to Kanae away from here, alone, as soon as possible.

But no, first the police have to interview each of them, and Amon, Seidou, and Akira arrive to chastise them, although for once Seidou looks tired of his power trip. When that finally ends, Shinohara offers them all food since they missed dinner.

Tsukiyama's starving, but Kanae declines and jogs up the stairs to their room, so Tsukiyama has to decline as well.

 _We won't say a word,_ Hinami texts him.

He shoves open the door to find Kanae curled up in a fetal position, crying into his knees, the rose pillow Tsukiyama bought him clutched against his chest. Tsukiyama's heart breaks. _You really haven't trusted me, have you?_

_You must feel so alone._

"I thought we talked about this," Tsukiyama manages, dropping onto the bed next to him. "Stop crying alone."

Kanae refuses to look at him, so Tsukiyama leans over him, taking his damp chin in his hands and turning Kanae to face him.

Eto's voice echoes. _The boy you're in love with…_

 _Kanae loves me? As in,_ in _love with me?_

Kanae looks up at him, fingers kneading the red pillow, eyes wide and vulnerable, like he expects Tsukiyama to yell at him and like he thinks he'd deserve it. _Oh, Kanae._

"Are you a boy or a girl?" asks Tsukiyama. "Not what you were born as. What do you want to be?"

Kanae sucks in his breath. "I am a girl. My father wanted me to be a boy."

 _Okay_. Tsukiyama rubs his face. "Does my father know?"

Kanae shakes her head. "Matsumae does."

"Why did he want you to be a boy?"

"I think he would. Because everyone else is dead." Kanae laughs, the sound of a bell breaking. "Karren. Arunolt. Nathanael. Emma. The initials, with some help, make _Kanae_."

 _So Karren's your real name._ "No one's going to turn you in," promises Tsukiyama. "I talked to Hinami."

"I'm so sorry." Kanae turns her face away again, lifting the pillow to cover herself.

"I'm not angry at you," Tsukiyama insists. _No wonder you cried all alone._ He remembers what Eto said. _I didn't see him—her._ His eyes sting. " _Mademoiselle_ Kanae—"

"Can I ask you something?" Kanae blurts out.

Tsukiyama blinks. "Of course."

She lowers the pillow and looks at him again. "It's selfish, but—can you call me my real name? In our room, at least—until they find out and I get kicked out or—"

 _That's all? That's your request?_ "Of course." _You just want to be seen, don't you? As who you are._

Tears run down her face.

"Don't worry," Tsukiyama assures her. "No one is going to find out, unless you want them to. No one will punish you, Karren." _I'll make sure of it._ _Please be who you are._

_It's lonely otherwise._

"I wasn't lying about anything else," she chokes out, lips sputtering. "Personality—or—"

He pulls her up by her wrists, and she cries against his chest. And now, with her in his arms, he can tell her body is that of a woman's. _How was I so stupid?_ "It's okay," he tells her. "It's okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... but is it?


	25. Blooming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Enjoy the chapter. ;)

"Ayato, Hinami, you two stay here for a moment," Shinohara requests as Juuzou, Mutsuki, and Urie prepare to leave.

Ayato pushes his plate full of pizza crusts away. His heart thumps in his chest. He knew Shinohara would have more questions for him. Every student was questioned with two staff members or an RA present, and Ayato was stuck with Mado and Itori. Talk about opposites. Hinami got Akira and Shinohara.

"Some people want to talk to you, Ayato," Shinohara informs him, texting someone. Ayato's phone's in evidence, so he hasn't been able to text Touka yet. At least he remembered to delete the texts from Naki.

"Hm?" Ayato lifts his head. Shinohara puts a pot of coffee on brew. _Yomo_ , he bets. At least Shinohara's letting Hinami stay. She sits next to him, her eyelids drooping.

A knock clacks against the door.

Touka and Kaneki walk in. Ayato jumps to his feet and regrets it immediately. He's used to trying to appear so tough, so put together—especially after the incident earlier in the year. _Will she be proud? Will she be mad? And Kaneki—_

"Ayato," Touka says, brushing her hair out of her eyes, and then she grabs him. "You _idiot!_ You could have gotten yourself killed!" But she's not punching him. She's hugging him.

Ayato lifts his face when she releases him. Kaneki watches him. "I'm sorry, Kaneki."

Kaneki shakes his head. "Don't—you're too important to Touka—don't do something like this again." But he, too, embraces Ayato.

 _I don't deserve it._ But Ayato hugs him back. The door opens again, and Ayato breaks away to see Yomo, Koma, and Irimi entering, Irimi carrying a Tupperware filled with what looks like cake.

Suddenly, again, Ayato feels small. A flush creeps up his cheek.

"Please tell me why you felt the need to do this yourself," says Yomo as Irimi heads to Shinohara's attached kitchen. He does not look pleased.

 _Dammit_. Ayato studies his boots and flicks his earring. "Juuzou asked me to."

"I don't give a damn what Juuzou asked you to do. Why did _you_ make the decision to do it?"

Koma lets out a chuckle as he drops into Shinohara's armchair.

"Your old friend should be released from prison soon," Ayato shoots back. "Why does it matter? Isn't _that_ the only thing that matters?" _Why are you angry with me?_

Hinami grabs Shinohara's black blanket, wrapping it around herself.

"No, it's _not_ the only thing that matters, Ayato," snaps Yomo, blowing out his breath. " _You_ matter. Your _life_ matters."

Kaneki frowns as he watches Yomo. _Because of him,_ Ayato wants to say, but he can't put this on Kaneki. "Because I—" He stops.

 _"Because?"_ prompts Yomo, crossing his arms.

_Why am I so bad at this, Dad? Why did you make me promise something I'm so horrible at?_

Something snaps. _Shut up, shut up, go away, Dad, you're irrelevant, you don't matter anymore!_

"You're not my dad!" Ayato lashes out. "You may be my uncle, but you kept that from us for a number of years—you don't get to—" He lets out a gasp, and then he's crying, and he hates having them all see it, Hinami, his sister, _Kaneki_. "I just wanted to prove myself—make it up to my sister because she loved Yoshimura—get the real person behind it so no one would get hurt like Kaneki—" His chest heaves.

"Ayato." Yomo grabs his shoulders. "I'm proud of you."

"Huh?" Ayato lifts up his face.

"I'm not happy with what you did," Yomo clarifies. "But I'm proud of your reasons for doing it."

"Your heart was in the right place," translates Irimi.

Ayato scowls. _That's too sappy_. He drags his sweatshirt sleeves over his cheeks.

"Take a seat," Yomo tells him.

"Ayato," Touka says as he sits down next to Hinami. "I am happy you helped Yoshimura, but you could have asked me to help—"

"Touka, no," snaps Yomo.

Touka makes a face.

Kaneki cracks his knuckles. "I'd already forgiven you, you know, Ayato. I meant it."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have," Ayato mumbles. _You're still doing that. Just like Yamori._

Kaneki frowns.

"Whatever. Thank you," Ayato adds.

"There are other ways to prove you've changed," Yomo says as he hands Ayato a plate of cake.

"What's this for?" he questions.

"Because I made too much again," Irimi answers with a wink.

Shinohara lets out a soft laugh. "Ayato, did you know Yomo had a reputation for fighting when he was a student here?"

"He's being nice," says Irimi. "Yomo beat people up. Everyone was scared of him. Then again," she adds with a frown. "Neither Koma nor I had wonderful reputations either."

"What did you do?" asks Hinami in surprise.

"I may have had a reputation as the leader of a gang of students," says Koma. "May have been called the Devil Apes. I don't know."

"I may have led a rival group," says Irimi. "Possibly called the Black Dogs. Yoshimura may have talked us down before we tore the school apart fighting. I can't recall."

 _And now you're friends._ Ayato glances at Kaneki, who accepts a plate from Irimi.

"I had no idea," Touka says, her eyes wide as she looks at Yomo.

"Uta was my RA," Yomo adds.

Ayato didn't even know Uta was an alumnus. It shouldn't shock him. So many people who work here seem to have ties back here. _Is it even possible to escape?_

_Did they want to?_

"Did he ever bust you?" Touka can't resist asking. Kaneki looks horrified.

"We got in a few fights," Yomo allows. "I was—pretty violent. And angry. But then we became friends, and I started hanging around him and Itori."

"My mother—" Touka starts, her gaze flickering to Ayato.

"Hikari told me she was pregnant with you the last year she was here," Yomo informs Touka. Kaneki studies her. "I was worried, but happy, for her and Arata."

 _Why did he leave us?_ Ayato shovels cake into his mouth without tasting anything other than sweet chalk.

"Did you two get along?" asks Touka.

Yomo shrugs. "If Hikari liked him, I figured he was good enough." He looks at Ayato. "Ayato, the reason I've come down so hard on you is because, for a few years after I graduated—and Shinohara knows this already—I was involved in the drug scene. Using, and selling. I tried to keep it together and keep attending classes, but when— your mother died, I gave up caring. There was a brawl with a rival gang and the only reason I'm alive today is Yoshimura found me on the street and dragged my unconscious ass back to his place. He gave me a fresh start."

"So you sent Yoshimura to find us after Dad went away," Touka whispers. Kaneki puts his hand on her shoulder.

Ayato narrows his eyes. He sees Hinami wiping at her eyes. _Are you sad for me?_

He wants to wipe her tears, but not with everyone watching.

"He helped all of us," Irimi agrees, pointing at Ayato with her fork. "So we are very grateful. But we would be remiss if we didn't tell you that honoring his legacy means far more to him. And his legacy is picking up the kids people leave like trash on the streets and showing them that they can have a future, if they want. Most of us just needed someone to tell us it was possible, and the school, for all its attempts, doesn't always employ people who believe that."

 _What kind of future is this?_ Ayato wonders as he squirms in his seat. Or maybe—maybe there are others Ayato doesn't know about. _Maybe these are the ones who decided to stay._

"Kids will become what you tell them they are," Shinohara says.

 _But my mother still died._ She died in a drug bust gone wrong—mistaken identity. And Dad vanished soon after.

"But he couldn't help Eto," whispers Kaneki.

"He abandoned her," says Koma. "It's hard to see him caring for others when he's abandoned you. Regrets don't atone for lost years. And yes, they both knew when she started working here. But she refused to have anything more than a working relationship with him."

"He loves her," Kaneki says. "The video evidence—"

"Explains where your missing envelope of money went," Shinohara interrupts. "Ayato, he seems to have been trying to stop her in his own way. I don't think he knew that you would be in danger."

 _He loves her so much that he potentially put everyone in danger by taking the blame for her?_ Ayato wonders. _Is that love?_ _Or did he just feel guilty because his stealing that envelope led to me betraying Kaneki?_

_Or are we still missing part of the story?_

When they're sent upstairs at last, Ayato grants his uncle a smile. They drop Hinami and Touka off at their floor, and then head up the stairs. Ayato's hand reaches out to catch Kaneki's shoulder. He whirls around.

"So," says Ayato, crossing his arms. "Have you actually asked my sister out yet?"

Kaneki blanches. "I—no. We're just—hanging out, and we're—"

"But you like her," Ayato cuts in.

Kaneki looks as if he wants to melt into the stairs.

 _Does he expect me to deck him or something_? "Well," says Ayato. "You have my approval. But only if you ask her out quickly. She'll say yes, so you should get on it. Soon. Okay?"

Kaneki breaks into a smile. "Okay."

* * *

Karren wakes up to Amon pounding on their door with the news that classes have been cancelled due to a blizzard outside. "What, do they think we'll get lost on the way to the cafeteria?" she mumbles.

"I'm not complaining," Shuu answers, and she remembers he knows and buries her face under her pillow again.

_You hugged me._

_You didn't push me away._

_Do I deserve to be so happy?_

Shinohara cooks them all pancakes again while snow and sleet splatter against the shaking windowpane, and this time no one arrives to take Karren away. Hide invites them all to watch a movie in the lounge, and to play Monopoly. Karren sits with Ayato and Hinami, who treat Karren as if she's a friend. It's funny, having more friends. She likes it.

"Are they dating?" she hisses in Shuu's ear as he struggles not to lose to Hide.

"If they aren't within two weeks I will have to act," Shuu whispers back, and promptly loses. But he doesn't even appear bothered as Hide gloats and grins. He leans back, studying Karren.

 _I had such a good day_ , Karren realizes that night. _I like being Karren_. Even if everyone else still calls her Kanae, it's a relief to think that Shuu knows who she really is. And _hugged_ her.

Karren falls asleep, and for the first time in years, sleeps deeply, without waking every few hours in a gray chaos.

Until the lights snap on.

 _What the hell?_ Karren sits bolt upright in bed, covering her eyes. "What's—"

"Karren!" Shuu says. "I have something to tell you."

"Huh?" she asks, pulling her fingers away from her eyes. Shuu's alarm clock glows with its blue-green numbers. _2:57_. "Is everything okay?"

"I've been awake all night thinking, and I came to a realization, and I couldn't wait until morning," Shuu says, pacing back and forth, interlacing his fingers behind his hair.

 _You've been awake all night?_ "Are you okay?"

"I love you," Shuu blurts out. " _Te amo. J t'aime. Ich liebe dich."_

"You—" _Do you mean what I think you mean? How?_

"I even said it in German," says Shuu, frowning. "Was I not—"

"Huh?" Karren's fists tighten around her sheets. _I'm dreaming. This is a dream._

"Eto said you loved me," says Shuu, for once his smirk not gracing his lips, and a strange look in his eyes. "I—I thought—"

Karren closes her eyes. " _Ich liebe dich,"_ she whispers, tears burning.

" _Fantastique!"_ yelps Shuu. He drops down next to her. Karren's eyes fly open, and she realizes his face is inches from hers. "You know, Karren, I realized—I thought about what love—and you—what Eto said—you really do love me. I see that—you loved me even when you thought I loved Kaneki, and—"

"I've always loved you," Karren manages. "Ever since you told me—to stop crying alone." And now she's crying again. Just one tear.

Shuu's thumb traces it away. "You put my happiness above yours.'

"Not always," Karren admits.

"But you tried to. I didn't even try to, not most of the time, not with anyone." Shuu frowns. "But I want to. With you."

"You don't have to," Karren says. "Not out of obligation—or—"

"This isn't out of obligation!" Shuu exclaims, his jaw dropping in offense. "You're—the way you've always treated me. Like I matter. You, and Dad, and Mastumae, and Kaneki recently—but no one else ever has, not really. And I haven't treated them like they matter, but I—you've always mattered to me. And you're beautiful. I just—I took you for granted, but—"

"I'll always be here for you," Karren interrupts. "Unless I, like, get pushed off a building or something."

"Don't say that!" Shuu clutches his face. "I couldn't—you matter too. You matter just as much as me, and I—I _love_ you, Karren. I want to—" He clears his throat, leaping to his feet.

"What about Kaneki?" Karren asks.

"I love him. He's my friend. But I don't necessarily think I want to date him anymore. I think he and Touka are cute together. I'm in love with _you_." Shuu runs his hand through his hair and drops to one knee.

 _What the hell?_ Karren gapes. _What is happening?_

"Karren von Rosewald," Shuu says. "Would you date me? Be my girlfriend? Or boyfriend in the eyes of everyone else?" He cringes. "All the roses are dead and the shops are closed, or I would have sent for them, but Kaneki said this would be good enough."

"Um," Karren says, biting back a laugh. _For real?_ But isn't this part of what she loves about him? How he feels so deeply and goes after what he wants?

 _You've become a really good person this year,_ Karren thinks. _Kaneki and everyone—they've been good for you_.

_I admire you. You make me want to be better, and you make me want to be free.  
_

"Yes," she says, heart pounding because she's still not quite sure this is real, that this is happening. _Are you sure? Is this real?_

_If it's a dream, it's a beautiful one._

Shuu grins, and his eyes moisten. He creeps closer, pulling himself back onto her bed, and he takes her fingers between his. His lips press against her knuckles.

And then he lets her hands go, and his palms take her chin and pull her closer. She stares into his eyes, feels his breath against her cheeks, his thumb stroking her jaw. _This is happening._

He kisses her, slowly, just his lips brushing against hers. He pulls back, studying her as if she's a sheet of music, and then presses in, mouth opening over hers. Karren isn't sure what she's doing, but she follows his lead, her heart pounding. His mouth explores her own, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders. He tastes like salt and the smell of the boy she's shared a room with for a year, the boy she's loved since he decided she shouldn't feel alone. His lips move from her mouth down her neck. Karren gasps.

"Sorry," Shuu pants, pulling away.

"No," says Karren. "I like that."

His lips return to her neck, trailing wet kisses down her pulse, down her collarbone. She sucks in her breath, her hands tightening in his hair. And then she slides her hands down, almost on instinct, under his collar, pressing his chest.

Shuu kisses her ear, and then slides back around so that his forehead rests against hers. "Are you sure?"

She nods.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," Shuu says. "If you want to wait, I can wait. I can wait a year. Two, maybe. Okay, anytime, for you." His voice trembles.

_You mean it._

_You_ do _love me_. She slides her hands to his stomach.

Shuu kisses her again, caressing her. He slips his hand under her t-shirt, kneading her breasts. "You're not wearing your binder."

"I figured there was no need anymore," Karren admits, delving up into his mouth.

"Then we're going to have to go slow, okay?" he asks as they break apart. A lock of hair falls over his eyes. "It's your first time, right? I want to make sure you enjoy yourself."

"Okay," Karren agrees.

"Good." Shuu pries himself away from her and digs through his desk drawer. He tosses a bottle at her and pulls out a box of condoms.

 _Lubricant,_ Karren reads.

"Put that on," Shuu says. "It'll help. And what position do you want to try?"

Karren frowns. _This is nothing like the movies._ "I'm not sure."

"Would you rather be on top or would you rather I was?"

"What do you think?" Karren asks, tossing the bottle between her hairs. A shiver runs through her belly as she watches him. "I'm—really inexperienced, Shuu."

"I'll be on top," Shuu decides. "For now."

"Can you give me a minute?" Karren requests.

"Take as much time as you need," Shuu says.

Karren darts into the bathroom, where she grabs the sink. _I'm about to have sex. With Shuu._ She's dreamed about it more than once, but—it's real. The sink's cold under her hands

_This is real._

_He loves me, as me. As Karren._

When Karren comes back into the room, she's wrapped in her red bath towel. Shuu's shirtless, but still in his pants.

"If you're uncomfortable with anything," Shuu says. "You should say so."

"Okay."

They start on her bed, Shuu kissing her long and deep, both panting. She suckles his neck, and he groans. " _Harder."_

Karren obliges, hands sliding over his shoulders. He reaches for her towel, and she freezes for a moment when he pulls it away. _The lights are still on._

" _Tu es belle_ ," he whispers, his hands stroking down over her breasts, down to her hips. "And definitely a woman."

Karren gulps. He guides her to lie on her back, mouth still glued over her own. Her heart picks up pace. One hand rests on her face; the other explores her body. Karren reaches for his pants, unbuttoning them.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and she nods.

When he starts, he asks her if it hurts, and she shakes her head. It doesn't at all. He shifts his hips and she copies, rocking in a rhythm together. His fingers dig into her shoulders and she clings to him, sweat breaking out on her forehead, his hair sticking to his skin, pink appearing in his cheeks. Sounds break from his mouth and from hers, gasps and cries, and she doesn't feel like she has any part of her to hold back. And when he comes, it's her name he moans. " _Karren."_

He drops next to her, head presses against her shoulder. Drowsiness surges, and he murmurs: " _Ich liebe dich."_

When they wake up to the alarm clock screeching only a few hours later, Karren finds herself still in Shuu's arms. She stumbles out of bed to turn it off, the lights still blazing.

"Are you sore?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbow. A small bruise marks his skin where his neck meets his chest.

"A little," Karren admits. "Not bad."

"Good." He smiles at her. "My girlfriend."

"You should text Chie," Karren suggests, grabbing a sweater and her breast binder.

Shuu laughs. "She'll be thrilled."

When they leave their room, Nishiki shakes his head at them. "You're very lucky Amon is a deep sleeper."

"Pardon?" asks Shuu.

"I mean, at least Kimi and I make an effort to be _quiet_ ," Nishiki hisses. "I'm going to have nightmares for weeks."

"I'd invest in some earplugs," Karren informs him as Shuu wraps an arm around her. Hide emerges from their room, shaking his head.

Shuu gives her a high-five.


	26. The World is Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Alas, the happiness could not last. (At least there's some Arima here?)

_Who am I?_   
_Can I conceal myself for evermore?_   
_Pretend I'm not the man I was before?_   
_And must my name until I die_   
_Be no more than an alibi?_

_"Who am I?" Les Misérables_

* * *

"Good job, Takizawa," Dr. Kanou whispers as he passes Seidou on his way to the cafeteria.

And, just like that, his appetite's gone. His stomach burns. Seidou glares at the path, cobblestones covered in ice and snow towering and white around them. It glints and stabs at his eyes.

"Reminded of your sins?" comes a taunt.

Seidou whirls around, heart in his throat. Kurona crosses her arms, watching him. A hat's pulled down over her forehead and a thick scarf wraps around her neck. She looks older to him all of a sudden. "What are you talking about?"

"I know what he's about," says Kurona. "He's the closest thing I have to a father."

"Who?" Seidou gapes at Kurona. From what he's heard, Kurona and Nashiro lost their parents in a random break-in years ago.

"Dr. Kanou," says Kurona, crouching down and stabbing her fingers through the snow. "He got Shiro and I to work for him. He gave us sweets and told us he'd take us home during the summers."

"Are you asking me to turn you in?" Seidou demands.

Kurona casts him with a sly look. "You won't." She shakes her head. "After Shiro died, he said we were useless to him."

The words sting. _Useless_. "Then why were you going to see him?" Seidou demands.

Kurona lifts her head. "Because. He's the closest thing I have to family left. I want him to take me back."

"What does that even mean?" snaps Seidou.

A smile curves Kurona's lips. "Firing you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't know why you're pretending," Kurona retorts, straightening. She wipes her snowy gloves on her pants. Her voice catches. "He helped me when everyone else was gone. Is it so wrong? To do whatever to try and get back in his good graces? I don't even know what I _did_."

 _It's wrong, it's wrong, all of this is wrong, we're all wrong, and there's nothing we can about it, so why bother?_ "We're both fucked," Seidou says.

"Oh?" asks Kurona, arching an eyebrow. "I thought Akira liked Amon. Don't think you're getting fucked."

Seidou's jaw drops. _This is what I get for trying to be nice to you?_ "Don't spread rumors!"

Kurona snickers.

"It's hopeless anyways," Seidou snaps. "We're both—we're both—"

"Fucked up," finishes Kurona. "Or fucked over. Isn't this your worst fear? Being the bad person you really think you are, even though you've gone to great lengths to convince everyone else you're not?" Melting snow drips from her gloves.

He feels as if she clawed his heart out of his chest. "What do you think?" Seidou lashes out. "What do—what choice do I have? I have nothing and no one for waiting for me, either. Why not—why not—" His breaths form puffs in the air.

"Why not?" Kurona echoes. "I never wanted to be this, either." She squints up, towards the sun.

"What did you want to be?"

"A chef," Kurona says simply. "Now I can't even remember the last time I cooked."

 _I can't remember the last time I felt happy_.

It was all pointless, wasn't it? _Trying_. Trying so hard to be good, to be better than this.

A cold wind blows, snaking around Seidou, chafing at his cheeks. _It was all useless._

* * *

"I _hate_ him!" proclaims Kimi as she bursts into the lounge. Kaneki sets his history textbook down. Hide raises his eyebrows.

"Who?" Nishiki demands, bangle jangling on his wrist. "Who do I need to kill?"

"Furuta," Kimi spits. "He keeps trying to help but he's _weird_ , and I don't like him. He says Dr. Kanou might be able to find me an internship over the summer, which I was all like, _yeah, that'd be great_ to, but then he makes these weird comments."

"Weird _how?"_ asks Nishiki, still looking as if murder is a legit possibility.

Kimi bites her lip. "He doesn't seem to like you much, Nishiki, but he keeps commenting how _cute_ it is that I love you and then he talks about Ami, his dead fiancée, and he's just—I don't know. I get the feeling that this internship comes with strings attached and I don't know what those strings are yet. _Not_ like what you're thinking, Nishiki, calm down."

Hide snorts. Nishiki scowls.

"He just gives me a wrong vibe," adds Kimi.

"In his defense," says Hide, rubbing his chin. "He has a lot to deal with."

"No kidding," Kaneki agrees. Although he feels far more comfortable with Arima than he ever did with Furuta.

"Hey!" calls Touka as she stumbles in, lugging a bunch of books from the library. "I got the ones you suggested I read for the exams, Kaneki."

"The internet exists, Touka," Hide informs her.

She scowls and drops onto a beanbag chair. "What'd I miss?"

 _Nothing,_ Kaneki thinks as he watches Touka. Her fingers are purple from the cold, and her lips chapped. Her hair sticks out with static as she yanks her hat off. Ayato's words ring in his ear.

_Am I really the kind of guy you want?_

" _Well, she did go to the dance with you," snapped Nishiki last night. "Stop overthinking."_

" _But Kaneki's job is overthinking," joked Hide._

Kaneki cracks his fingers. "Hirako isn't exactly the best replacement literature teacher, so I recommended—"

"He tries," offers Hide.

Kaneki shrugs. Hirako tries, but he often wonders about how Hirako views him, considering that Kaneki hangs out in Arima's office multiple times per week and Hirako's one of Arima's assistants.

They study until the dinner bell rings, and then Kaneki joins Touka, Hide, Kanae, and Tsukiyama. He notes that the latter two holding hands and smiles. When they woke up to the sound of the two of them getting busy next door, Kaneki put in earphones. Nishiki and Hide were more traumatized.

 _Should I ask Touka tonight?_ He can practically feel Ayato's eyes boring into the back of Kaneki's skull, seeking to rewire his brain.

 _I'm afraid_.

_Isn't she worth it?_

"I heard Yoshimura gets out tomorrow," reports Tsukiyama, feeding Kanae a meatball. Touka scrunches her nose. "But he may not be able to come back right away."

"Makes sense," Hide says as he eats three cookies for dinner.

"Is he sad about his daughter?" asks Kaneki.

Tsukiyama shrugs. "Probably."

 _Is that love, or is that more like what my mother did for my aunt_? Kaneki wonders. _Did she feel like she had to atone, too? Did Mom try to atone by hitting me?_ His cheek stings with the memory.

Touka frowns at him. Kaneki flushes.

"Uh, Touka?" ventures Hide. "What're you—"

"Kaneki," says a voice behind him. He jumps.

 _Arima_. The dean stands over their table, his hands clutching his briefcase. "When you're done eating, Ken, I'd like to speak with you."

Kaneki pushes his food away, stomach souring. Touka scowls. "I'll come now."

"Okay," says Arima, striding out of the cafeteria, shoes clapping against the floor. Kaneki hurries after him. His heartbeat echoes in his ears. Whatever's going on can't be good. They head out of the cafeteria into the biting cold. Snarky wind taunts Kaneki, scraping his skin with cold fingernails. A branch, broken under the weight of all the frozen snow, dangles half-detached from a tree's trunk.

"Arima?" Kaneki ventures when they duck into the main offices. "Is—"

"Quiet," Arima orders.

Kaneki gulps. Arima's never told him to be quiet before.

Arima pushes open his office door to reveal Hirako, Ui, and Hairu, one of the other dorm parents. All of them leap to their feet.

_What happened?_

"We talked about this," Arima states, brushing past them without a glance. "You all need to go back to your apartments."

"No," snaps Hirako.

"Kaneki," Hairu blurts out.

"Oh," says Hirako, looking at him with fear suddenly etched into his face. "So your mind's made up?"

Arima fumbles to unlock his office within their office suite. "There was no decision to make."

"I see," states Ui. Hairu's hand rests on Ui's elbow.

"Well?" asks Arima.

Hirako storms towards the door. Ui hesitates, and then nods at Arima and follows Hirako out, Hairu on his heels. The door slams behind them.

"What's wrong?" Kaneki ekes out as Arima ushers him inside and marches over to the windows, shutting the blinds and flicking on a small crystal lamp. Light sparkles over the papers and file folders piled on the desk, over the soft brocade chairs.

"Sit down," Arima invites him.

Kaneki stays standing. "What's wrong?" he repeats. His throat tightens as if it's going to split apart. _I can't—I can't—tell me what's going on!_

"Can you explain to me why, again, you went with Rize Kamishiro to east campus last semester?" Arima demands, planting his hands on his desk. His arms shake.

"I—" Kaneki shakes his head. "I've told you before—she—"

"Tried to rob you," Arima finishes. "Did anyone visit you in the hospital when you were there? Besides Amon, Shinohara, and Mado?"

"They wouldn't even let Hide come," Kaneki insists, cracking his knuckles again, one snap, one pop, and another. He remembers being trapped by Yamori, his laugh as he broke bone after bone and didn't care that Kaneki screamed. _Someone, care._

The way Arima looks at him—it's different.

"Because it seems Eto visited you."

"She did?" Kaneki wracks his mind. "I don't remember."

" _Try."_

"I can't remember!" Kaneki clutches his skull, squeezing. "I don't—what—"

"The police seem to think you may have been involved in helping Eto and her trafficker friends steal Rize away from the hospital," Arima says.

 _I didn't!_ Why would they think that? Even if she robbed him, he's never hated her. _Rize, I don't want you to suffer._

"Furthermore," says Arima. "They seem to believe I was involved, because I went to visit Rize before she disappeared. And the security cameras at the hospital have been tampered with, so no one recorded her abduction."

" _You?"_ Kaneki gapes.

"I know you had nothing to do with it," says Arima.

"But you didn't either!" Kaneki cries out. _Did you?_

Arima shakes his head. "No, I didn't."

"Then—but that's not evidence—"

"There are enough emails between myself and Eto to incriminate me," Arima says with a wry smile. "Most I don't even remember sending. Which I presume I did not send."

"Is someone—setting you up?"

Arima shrugs and taps his overly stuffed briefcase.

 _You're running_ , Kaneki realizes. _You're leaving_. It burns. "How's that going to help anything?" Kaneki lashes out. "You're always telling me to—to—"

"I'm trying to protect you," Arima interrupts. "Kaneki, whoever it is may also try to set you up. You've been working with me for months now—" Arima's fists tightens as if he's in agony. "And that's created the perfect opportunity."

 _Me?_ Kaneki gapes. "But Yamori—"

"There's an email in which Eto wonders whether Yamori went off on you because you messed up."

"But Ayato—"

"Supposedly didn't know, according to this email."

 _"What_ email? It's—that's horseshit!" Kaneki shouts. _I just swore in front of the dean._

_Who gives a damn?_

_But if it can get Arima off…_ "If they blame me, maybe you—"

"No," Arima cuts in, pushing out from behind his desk and grabbing Kaneki by the shoulders. "You need to stay here. I don't believe anyone will go after you if I'm out of the picture. You'll be cleared." A small smile plays with his lips, sad though, and haunted. "One speculative email is not enough evidence."

 _What kind of demons ate you for you to empathize so much?_ Kaneki wonders. _And why didn't I think to ask before now?_ "You'll try to prove them wrong, right?" _What's going to happen to Mutsuki if you're gone?_

"When minds have been made up without evidence," Arima says. "There's little anyone can do to convince them they're wrong."

"But there's fake evidence—"

"That's not the point. Everyone has enemies, Ken, even here. _Especially_ here." Arima says, fiddling with his glasses. "I just wanted to make sure you knew."

 _Why?_ Kaneki gulps.

"I wish I could say you'd have nothing to fear if you tell the truth," Arima says. "I can't say that, because that's not the way the world works. I can say that you'll have a lot more to fear if you lie about anything." He jerks his head. "You should go back to your dorm. I'm sure they'll question you in the morning." Dropping into his chair, Arima leans his forehead against the clasp of his briefcase. "I _do_ believe they'll clear you. Don't be afraid."

Kaneki's feet feel rooted to the wooden floor. "I—"

"Ken," says Arima. "I never doubted that you were innocent. I asked you only because I wanted to make sure you weren't manipulated." He lifts his head and peers at Kaneki. "You know, I've never been blessed with children, but if I ever was, I would want them to be like you."

Kaneki's heart breaks.

* * *

"What the hell?" Touka yelps over Facetime. Kaneki's face looks ashen as he tells her the story, Hide, Nishiki, Tsukiyama, and Kanae all in the background. Hinami and Yoriko are in the showers.

Sirens wail in the background. Touka crunches down on her lip. _They're coming for Arima now, aren't they?_

_But he won't be here._

_Why the hell is someone threatening Kaneki?_

_Convenience._ She feels sick.

"He's innocent," Kaneki repeats.

"We believe you," Hide chimes in.

Kaneki cracks his knuckles. "I'm going to prove it."

"How?" demands Touka, fear leaping inside of her. "You can't. We're stuck here on campus—someone else, besides Eto, is involved—unless Eto set this up just to make it look like it—as a sick joke—"

"Seems like something she would do," spits Nishiki. "That bitch."

"If someone can find Rize," Kanae whispers. "She could tell the truth about what happened."

"So, go find her," suggest Tsukiyama. "The private investigators are too afraid of getting their hands dirty."

"Are you nuts?" Touka snarls. Kanae glowers. The wind rattles against her windowpane. "If they catch Kaneki off campus, with what Arima said, they'll _arrest_ him."

"I don't care," says Kaneki.

"What?" _What do you mean, you_ don't care?

"You know," Tsukiyama muses. "If you want to go, I'll get you a hotel room. I have a credit card, and they won't be able to track you because it's in my alias's name."

"You _are_ insane!" Touka shouts.

"Hey!" barks Kanae.

"It will take longer than a night, I think," Kaneki admits.

"Hide?" demands Touka. _Don't let me down._

Hide's shaking his head. "I don't like this, Kaneki."

"Neither do I," says Kaneki, dropping his head. "But I can't—he's—Arima said—"

"Said what?" snorts Nishiki.

"That I was like a son to him," Kaneki admits, voice muffled.

Touka leans closer to her phone. _Oh, Kaneki._

She remembers her own father and the promises he made her and Ayato make, the day before he broke all the unspoken promises fathers make to their children, the promises they don't even have to speak, the promises they communicate in kisses and tickles and hugs.

 _You left_.

"Talk to them first," urges Hide. "We'll snoop around."

"I bet Furuta's involved," grumbles Nishiki. "He hates Arima."

"He hates everyone," says Kanae, rolling his eyes. "He must have listened to too many sob stories over the years. Even if he's still pretty young."

_Were we too sad for you, Dad?_

Kaneki agrees to talk to Mado and the police whenever they arrive, but relief barely stirs for Touka. Her heart throbs. _Dad, why?_

When Yoriko and Hinami come back in, she pretends to be asleep, pressing her cheek against her pillow. But Touka has no intention of sleeping. She lies awake long after Yoriko hangs up from her giggly conversation with Takeomi. Hinami snores softly. She listens.

_Everyone always leaves._

When she hears the clatter she's been expecting around two in the morning, Touka grabs her jacket and slips it on. She pushes the window open, a blast of icy wind slamming into her face. " _Wait up, idiot,"_ she hisses before ducking down and stuffing her feet in sneakers. She wiggles out of the window and crunches down in the snow, shutting the pane to prevent Hinami and Yoriko from waking up.

Kaneki stands before her, hands stuffed in the pockets of his parka, teeth chattering. Snow seeps into Touka's shoes as she staggers over to him.

"I knew you'd go," she states.

 _But I don't want you to_.

_Everyone always leaves._

"I have to help him," Kaneki insists, trembling. The wind howls over his words.

"What about me?" asks Touka. She hates having spoken those words.

Kaneki flinches. "Touka…"

"I like you as you are," Touka states. "You don't have to be a hero." The words tumble from her lips, her teeth clattering and cutting at the edge of her tongue. "You don't have to—earn it—" Her chest heaves.

Hasn't she always wondered, if she had done something different, would Dad have stayed? Would Yoshimura have been okay? Would Hinami's parents still be alive if she'd opened her eyes and realized that they were in over their heads when they visited Yoshimura last summer?

 _I'm so sick of trying and trying to earn people._ The wind rifles through her hair, sending strands slapping against her eyes.

"I want to do this," Kaneki chokes out. He wipes at his eyes, nighttime's shadows obscuring the rest of his face.

"You feel obligated to," Touka insists. "I—I'd give anything, Kaneki, just to see you do something because you want to." _Without being so afraid._

Kaneki steps towards her. Touka's toes feel numb even encased within her rubber boots. "Touka."

And then his hands, icy and chapped, grab her jaw, and he presses his mouth against hers. It's warm. His lips scratch and when he pulls away, he looks at her in terror, eyes gleaming.

_He just kissed me._

Touka curls her fist. _You can't do this when you're about to leave. It's not fair._

_Everything's unfair._

_And I love you._

Touka grabs his neck and pulls him down. She parts his lips with her own, coaxing his mouth into opening up, letting her in.

Ice from a tree spits down on them in a gust of wind, and Touka drops her head to his shoulder. "Get a prepaid phone and call me. And come back." She tightens her hands against his shoulders. "Make sure you come back."

He holds her against his chest, breaths warm against her neck, and then cold when he draws in. "I'll come back."

 _Well,_ Touka thinks. _You'll try._


	27. Public Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Re Academy is now officially screwed.

"If you hear from him," Furuta says, clasping his hands at the front of their literature classroom. "Make sure you report it to one of us staff as soon as possible."

Ayato slouches in his seat, chewing rapidly on his pencil. Hinami stares at her desk, unable to face the counselor, who is now the acting dean.

Aura's hand shoots into the air.

"Yes, Aura?"

"Do you actually think he had anything to do with—you know—helping Eto? Or was he just used by Arima?"

"We can't speculate on that now," Furuta says primly. "But if the accusations are true and the evidence is sound, it's rather conniving of Ken Kaneki."

"I'm pretty sure _that_ is speculation right there," says Ayato, tossing his pencil up in the air and catching it.

"So it is," Furuta agrees. He beams at Ayato as if he backed him up instead of tried to sabotage him.

Ayato scowls. He's scheduled to talk to Mado and the police after school about what he remembers. It's obvious they want him to pull some random fact out of his ass that could indicate Kaneki knew Yamori, but there's no way. Ayato isn't here for this bullshit.

 _None of you actually want to help us._ The police, the judges, the teachers— _they send us here to be forgotten._

Furuta slithers out and the lesson resumes, not that Ayato cares. _Why should we? The world won't give us a chance. Why even try?_

Hinami still takes notes, and Ayato doesn't understand. She cried this morning when they learned about Kaneki.

_And he left Touka, just like that._

Though she didn't cry, and Ayato suspects she already knew. _You better not get my sister in over her head, Kaneki._ Although if either of them's likely to drown in such a scenario, Ayato doubts it'd be Touka.

The bell rings, and Ayato gathers his books. Juuzou slaps an empty notepad shut, his mouth pinched and red threads stark against his gray pallor.

"What do you think about all this?" Ayato cuts in. Because his roommate liked Kaneki. Kaneki gave him candy.

"He was the only student at this fucking school who never looked at me with disgust," replies Juuzou, stuffing the notepad into his bag. He yanks the zipper shut, clenching his jaw. "He—if he did this—"

 _You can't possibly believe that!_ Ayato opens his mouth to yell.

"Well, we were all wrong," interrupts Hanbee.

"Huh?" Juuzou narrows his eyes.

"We were wrong," Hanbee repeats, clutching his hands anxiously. "If we looked at you as—with disgust. We were wrong. To do that."

"You _are_ weird," said Nakarai. "But so is everyone."

"And yeah, we were wrong," says Tamaki.

Hinami stands behind Ayato. He can't take his gaze off his roommate. _Please don't fly off the rails._

"We like you," says Mikage, slipping a newspaper's astrology report into his history textbook, apparently in preparation for the next class.

Ayato barely knows these kids. Hanbee he's seen around more because he's Juuzou's chemistry partner, but the others—he doesn't know them beyond their names and faces and singing abilities from drama—and in Mikage's case, his earrings, which are cool but not cooler than Ayato's.

"Th-thanks," Juuzou stammers, his face flushing. Hinami steps forward, and she breaks into a smile.

 _Why don't these kids have potential to you adults?_ Ayato wants to scream. _Fuck you, fuck all of you, fuck Arima, fuck Matsuri, fuck Furuta, fuck everyone who thinks we're just a bunch of losers with clocks ticking down until the day we either come back here or get scraped off the street by a police officer or as a corpse_.

 _If this school can give me any sort of hope, it's from us,_ Ayato decides. _The students._

 _You're all so fucking wrong, and I'm going to prove it_. Although proof's right here, and Furuta can't pry the blinders off his eyes long enough to see it.

"Good luck," Hinami tells Ayato after school, when he drags his feet to security. Yomo waits for him, alongside Shinohara. Mado seems on edge since Tokage's arrest, biting his lip and grinning like a Cheshire Cat on ecstasy. Ayato crosses his arms, slouching in his seat. _I'm not giving you an ounce of respect, you ugly warlock. You don't give us any._

Mado presses and presses. "Are you sure you didn't remember one thing? Ayato, you should try to help yourself here." He leans over his desk, practically drooling.

"Trying to play good cop now?" Ayato drawls. "That's new."

"Ayato!" Yomo glares at him.

"What?" asks Ayato, flicking his earring. "I don't care."

Mado snorts, interlacing his long fingers. "You should. It's _your_ future, after all." He chuckles.

"You're a hypocrite!" Ayato fires back. "You don't think _any_ of us have futures!"

 _"Ayato!_ "

"I sold Kaneki out once for my mistakes," Ayato snarls. "I'm not doing that again. I was the one working with Yamori and apparently with Eto too, and I'm not blaming Kaneki when there's absolutely no reason to. He was trying to _help_ me and I fucked him over."

"So are you trying to help him out now?" asks Mado, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know. I actually care about the truth here," snaps Ayato. "And you apparently don't."

Yomo slaps his forehead. Shinohara groans.

"Give me your phone, Ayato," Mado orders.

"Have at it." Ayato yanks it out of his pocket and tosses it across the desk. He doesn't care if it cracks, if it shatters. _Fuck everything_. "What is it about you that makes you enjoy seeing kids get in trouble? Do you get off on that kind of power trip?"

"Ayato, you need to settle down," Shinohara interjects.

"I've heard enough," says Mado as he scrolls through Ayato's phone. He won't find anything incriminating there, because Ayato doesn't _know_ anything. And no one apparently believes him. "I'm writing a report to the principal."

"On what?" Ayato yells, leaping to his feet. Yomo jumps up too, seemingly ready to restrain Ayato if he has to.

"On how your insubordination is out of control! I recommend a long dorm grounding, but that'll be up to—"

"Fine! Blame me for that! Kaneki didn't do anything!" Ayato clutches his throat.

"We're done here," Mado says, scowling as he slides Ayato's phone back at him. "Actually, Shinohara, confiscate that for the next twenty-four hours."

Shinohara nods, reaching for it. Ayato turns and runs out of the office. So what if Mado tackles him? So what if he puts him in handcuffs?

"Ayato!" Yomo bellows, tearing down the cobblestone paths after him. "Stop!"

Ayato skids to a stop, his heart pounding in his chest. Nausea washes over him, along with sweat. The cold turns the sweat into icy daggers. "He didn't do it!" he croaks out. "Maybe Arima—not Kaneki." He glares up at his uncle. "You know he didn't, right?"

Yomo blows out his breath. "Of course I know. I just don't think your attitude is going to help Kaneki one bit. And I think you should leave this to people who actually _do_ care, _and_ who can help."

"Who?" Ayato demands. _You?_

Yomo crosses his arms and doesn't answer.

"Am I dorm grounded?" Ayato asks, his throat clogging up. Damn it, he's going to cry, and he doesn't want to. And if he has to he doesn't want Yomo to see it again.

"Not officially yet, but I'm sure you will be."

"Great." Ayato stalks off, towards the gym. Yomo groans, but he doesn't follow.

"Hey, Ayato," Tsukiyama calls from where he shoots hoops with Hide and Kanae. Ayato ignores them, heading up to the track that wraps around the second story of the gym. He runs laps, hoping the air on his face, stale and warm from the heating system, will rip the tears from his eyes. It doesn't work.

_I don't want to go back to Dorm Block 20._

_I might as well be in prison._

* * *

"What's going on?" Hinami pants as she arrives at the gym to find Tsukiyama and Kanae making out on the bleachers. With what looks like a lot of tongue. Hinami's hands fly to her lips.

"Shuu! Kanae! PDA is not allowed here!" bellows Matsumae as she storms across the gym. "Do you want me to call your father, Shuu?"

Tsukiyama slides his arm around Kanae's shoulders and sits straight up. The purple-haired boy looks happier than Hinami's ever seen him. _Is that what being in love can do? Is it all because of loving someone?_

She remembers waking to the sound of Touka crying. _But I thought Kaneki loved her_.

 _My parents loved me and still had other priorities as well._ Hinami bites her tongue.

"Hinami?" Tsukiyama asks.

"Hide told me Ayato was here and he was upset and I was worried because of that interrogation he had—" Hinami starts.

"Right," says Tsukiyama, smiling at her.

"He was crying," says Kanae, brushing his hair back, a note of sorrow in his voice.

"Crying?" Hinami echoes. _Oh, Ayato_.

Clunks echo as Matsumae lugs nets and basketballs into the equipment closet across the gym, the bright blue doors echoing as she slams them shut. "I'm going to walk you two back to your dorm!"

"But—you don't trust us to obey when you're not here?" exclaims Tsukiyama, aghast.

"Not one iota," confirms Matsumae, striding towards them. "Hinami?"

"He's crying in the locker room," Tsukiyama whispers in her ear as he gets to his feet.

"Do I have to come, too?" asks Hinami, knotting her fingers.

"Not unless you want to," Matsumae confirms. "Because I do trust you."

Kanae snorts, tossing Hinami a grin.

"I'll stay," Hinami says.

Matsumae escorts Tsukiyama and Kanae out, and the moment the door bangs shut, Hinami darts across towards the boys' locker room. She cringes. _Well, Tsukiyama said he was just crying_.

She knocks on the door.

Nothing.

"Ayato?" she tries, tapping her foot.

_Dad, where are you? Why aren't you home yet?_

_He'll be home soon._

He never came home.

 _Please don't do anything stupid, Ayato_. She shouts his name again, this time rapping on the door with her palm.

Nothing.

Panic climbs up Hinami's throat. A series of images that would kill her whirl in her mind, red and maroon and swollen. She kicks the door. _Goddammit!_ Hinami shoves the door open and bursts inside.

Ayato stands there, hair soaked and plastered to his face, shirt off, and a half-wrapped towel falling off his waist.

Hinami's not sure which one of them screams first.

Ayato grabs the towel. Hinami charges out of the locker room, across the gym. _What did I just do?_

 _Tsukiyama, I am going to kill you_! Hinami stops at the exit, clutching her face. _Poor Aayto—I didn't know_ —she'll text him. She shoves the door open, frigid air striking her face.

But if he really was crying…

_Are you just going to run again?_

Self-loathing rises inside of her. Hinami ducks back inside, teeth chattering. She huddles on the bleachers and waits. Her face feels as if it's blistering from embarrassment.

The locker room door creaks open about ten minutes later, and Ayato emerges. Hinami can't look at him. "I'm so sorry—Tsukiyama told me you were in there crying, and—I had no idea—I mean, I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," Ayato says, and then he snickers.

 _You're laughing_? Hinami peeks up at him, and then she grins as well. He's dressed in jeans and his ever-present sweatshirt.

He shakes his head and drops down next to her, burying his face in his hands. "Of all the shitty things that have happened today, this at least managed to make me laugh."

Hinami chuckles. "What happened?"

"I yelled at Mado. They want me to 'remember' something that suggests Yamori already knew Kaneki, or Arima, or anything. I don't remember jack shit about that because it never happened. Well, maybe the stuff with Arima is true, but not Kaneki."

Hinami nods. "Touka doesn't think it's true about Arima either."

Ayato turns to narrow his eyes at her. "Do you know where Kaneki is?"

She shakes her head.

"Does my sister?"

"I don't know," Hinami answers, gripping her knees. "Have you contacted—you know, that old friend of yours? He might know."

"I think Naki has a new number, because he isn't responding to anything I sent, which means he's probably switched jobs, and I _can't_ go back there again."

Hinami nods.

"I'm not giving them what they want," Ayato declares, pushing his sopping hair back. "When I get back to dorm Shinohara's probably going to tell me I'm dorm-grounded for the rest of the year."

Hinami groans.

"I don't know what that idiot's thinking, though," Ayato grumbles, flicking his earring.

"I think he wants to prove Arima's innocent," whispers Hinami. "At least, that's the only thing I can think of."

Ayato rolls his eyes. He smells clean. "That does sound like Kaneki."

"I admire him," Hinami admits, leaning forward. Her abdomen tightens, feeling as if it'll burst. "He's at least doing something. I couldn't." _Does he want to do it, though?_

Ayato turns to her, his gaze soft.

Hinami wipes her eyes. "I should've helped my parents—I should have said something, done something—I didn't want to interfere—I could have told them to stop. I'm—I was too weak, I wanted to be nice, I couldn't bear the thought of turning anyone away—I asked Dad to help one of the girls; I didn't know what she was; I'm the whole reason—they _weren't_ involved in it; I know they weren't, but my mind keeps playing tricks on me and I wonder—I'm a horrible daughter." A sob rips out of her chest, leaving her sore.

"Hinami," says Ayato. "Your parents were innocent. They were just trying to help a poor girl who was a victim. I know it."

Hot tears run down her cheek. She can't look at him.

"I asked Naki," Ayato adds. "When you confronted me that night—I asked him." His voice trembles. "I'm sorry. I should have told you right away—I just—"

Hinami turns to gape at him.

"I'm sorry," he manages.

She shakes her head, her chest numb. She waits for him to prompt an answer from her, but he's silent, just waiting, watching, not expecting anything. Hinami draws in a ragged breath. "You'd think what you told me would make me feel better, or worse, but it doesn't. It's over—they're dead, no matter what, and I—I _really miss them_."

_I want them back._

_No one will ever give me them back._

_They shouldn't have died._

She doesn't feel anger. _Just sadness_.

Whenever she cried at home, Mom would take her in her arms, soothe her, wipe her tears, suggest shopping. Dad would give her pencils and paper and sit and draw with her.

_I'll never experience that again in this life. Ever._

A hand grips her shoulder. Hinami stiffens. Ayato watches her, his gaze broken. "You—miss them—too—don't you?" _Your parents._

Ayato nods.

Hinami takes his other hand. "I want to help them. I don't—know how."

"Kaneki? And Arima?" Ayato asks.

Hinami nods, wiping at her eyes. Snot runs down from her nose, but Ayato doesn't look at her like she's disgusting.

"I have an idea," Ayato admits. "It involves talking to a certain imprisoned former literature teacher. She always liked you."

"Furuta won't let us write—"

"Who said anything about writing?" asks Ayato. "Cochlea Detention Center is only about an hour from here."

"If you're dorm-grounded until the end of the year—"

"Rules mean nothing," Ayato says with a shrug and a smirk. "But I'd better get back to Dorm Block 20 sooner rather than later. We'll visit this weekend."

Hinami gets to her feet and realizes Ayato's still holding her hand.

* * *

"Ayato," says Shinohara the moment they arrive.

"Yeah, I know," Ayato says as he follows Shinohara into his apartment. Hinami spots Nishiki cuddling with Kimi on one of the couches. She heads over.

"I'm not sure if he should be more afraid of Mado or Touka," Nishiki says to greet Hinami. Kimi runs her hands through his hair, bangle jostling.

"Mado," Hinami answers, dropping down onto the floor across from them and crossing her legs.

Nishiki sighs. "He needs to pull it together."

 _Can he?_ Hinami wonders. "Do you know where Kaneki is?"

Nishiki pretends to zip his mouth. Kimi shakes her head.

 _I'm taking that as a yes_. "Well, I don't know if you can reach him, but let him know we believe in him if you can," Hinami tells Nishiki.

Nishiki nods. He leans his head against Kimi's chest.

Hinami flexes her fingers, missing Ayato's hand in her own. "Can I ask you something?"

"I may or may not be able to answer," mumbles Nishiki.

"It's not about Kaneki."

"Then, sure," Kimi answers for Nishiki. He rolls his eyes.

"What's it like to fall in love?"

Nishiki snorts. "You're joking, right?"

Hinami shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself. Kimi's eyebrows fly up, and a grin spreads as she looks at Shinohara's closed door. Hinami's face flushes.

"I don't think I'm the best person to ask about that," Nishiki says carefully.

"What?" yelps Kimi, jerking back.

"I just mean because I have difficulty expressing it!" cries Nishiki, throwing his hands in the air as he faces his girlfriend. "It's like—I want to spend so much time with you, I want to get to know you, every part of you, and I want you to get to know me—even though I'm—still afraid of some things—and—" His face grows redder than his hair. "But they make you feel safe, and—"

"Better," Kimi proclaims, leaning forwards and pecking him on the lips.

Hinami smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Kaneki tries to investigate and Furuta tries to do what he does best (i.e. ruin everything).


	28. Sins of the Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kaneki finds an ally and Furuta selects his next target.

_Take my hand, and lead me to salvation_  
_Take my love, for love is everlasting…_  
_And remember the truth that once was spoken_  
_To love another person is to see the face of God!_

_"Epilogue," Les Misérables_

* * *

"Welcome back, Mutsuki," Furuta greets him, clasping his hands together as if he _really cares_. Except that now someone's clearly told Furuta about why they sent Mutsuki to see Arima, and while Mutsuki assumed they may have before, now it's confirmed, and it sits like a grenade rollicking around, about to go off in his stomach.

And Furuta wants to talk about Kaneki, and Arima. "Maybe they were making designs on you—do you ever wonder that?"

Mutsuki shakes his head, tears burning. "No." Because it's not true.

"You don't believe it's true?" Furuta rests his chin on his hands. "I have to admit, I hope it isn't as well. Kaneki—"

"There has to be a reason," Mutsuki blurts out. "He must have a good reason."

"Don't you think people sometimes do things for little to no reason at all?" asks Furuta, rolling a pencil around as if it's a toy.

"No. I mean, maybe. I don't know."

_Why did_ you _do it?_

He can't remember, so he doesn't even know.

"I do agree that trying to understand reasons is important to understanding a person, however," Furuta adds.

Mutsuki nods. He twists his sweatshirt pocket.

"Did Arima bring up hypnosis with you?" asks Furuta.

Mutsuki blinks. "No?"

"Therapists sometimes use it to treat patients suffering from dissociation," Furuta says. "Given—recent incidents—there's reason to believe you might snap—"

_I'm not going to snap. I'm not_. But if Furuta's right? What if Mutsuki loses it?

_What if I go after Urie or Shirazu_? He sucks in his breath.

"It might help if we used hypnosis," Furuta says. "We could just try it, so I can converse with you in your dissociative state, find out what triggers it. We'd make sure Hirako and Ui are nearby to intervene if need be, and you wouldn't be punished for anything—I'd just want to talk."

_It._

_Why is there another person inside me? What kind of freak am I?_ Mutsuki presses his fingers over his eyes. "They abused me. It's on the records." His voice is flat, like it doesn't matter, like it's never mattered.

"Yes, but what _specifically_ makes you dissociate? If we can figure that out—we know about what happened with Saeki, but with the cat, and with your family, we can prevent it from ever happening again."

_The cat?_ "You know about that?" Mutsuki's stomach lurches.

"I have access to Arima's records," Furuta says primly.

_Dammit_.

_You tried to help me, and you damned me, Arima_. Tears wriggle out of Mutsuki's eyes. He wipes them away. "Can I—think about it?"

"Of course." Furuta leans across the table. "In the meantime, if you feel unstable, don't hesitate to contact me, or Shinohara."

"Of course." Mutsuki gets to his feet. He can't get out of the office fast enough. The walk back to Dorm Block 20 is a blur of melting snow and mud. The air's warmer than normal, adding to the hazy feel of a dream.

He makes it back to his room, where he's alone, and breaks down. He punches his pillow again and again. _I don't want to be like this. I want to have a different body, a different mind._

_I just want to be whole._

_Why was I born this way?_

God must be cruel.

"Tooru?"

He curls up on his bed, refusing to look up.

"Shit," says Shirazu, and springs creak as he drops down onto the bed across from Mutsuki. "Was Furuta a condescending ass?"

Mutsuki doesn't open his eyes.

"Dammit," Shirazu says. "If you don't wanna talk, I'll bring in reinforcements. Like Saiko."

"I'm fine."

"Horseshit."

Mutsuki props himself up on his elbow. "Furuta was an ass."

"Can we help?" asks Shirazu, leaning forward. "Tooru, you know we love you. Brotherly love. From one guy to another."

Mutsuki laughs.

"At least, I do," says Shirazu. "With Saiko it's like one girl to one guy, but platonic. With Urie—well, you'd have to ask him."

_Huh?_ Mutsuki frowns. _Urie—_

"Got your text," sings Saiko as she slips into their room, Urie shutting the door.

"Oops," says Shirazu as Mutsuki glares. "So I may have texted the moment I saw you lying here."

"Chocolate for all, please?" request Saiko, sliding down to the floor against the bunk bed. Urie scowls but digs through his stash. "Don't worry about Seidou. He's so out of it lately. He won't catch me."

"Great," mumbles Mutsuki. _Seidou, why can't you be more like Amon? Then I could talk to you_.

"Was Furuta that bad?" Urie asks. "He was terrible with me yesterday. Asking about—things I don't want to talk about."

_Your dad?_

"He told me I should lose weight," Saiko puts in. "Hsiao says I shouldn't, though. She says I look cute."

"Back to Furuta," Urie cuts in. "Shirazu, your appointment is tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, and he'll probably ask me again what I think I'll do once my sister dies." Shirazu rips off a piece of chocolate with his teeth. The wrapper crinkles in his hands. "She's _not_ going to die."

"He wants to use hypnosis on me," Mutsuki whispers.

"What?" Urie's jaw drops.

"Come again?" asks Shirazu. "Tooru—"

"I have a dissociative disorder," Mutsuki tells them. "Urie already knows. I go into these other—states—and I don't remember—and he says that with Arima and Kaneki leaving, I might snap—and he wants to understand what makes me snap—"

"Is that what happened with Saeki?" questions Saiko.

Mutsuki nods. Neither Saiko nor Shirazu look repulsed, or afraid. The sun glows outside his window.

"Doesn't hypnosis make sense?" wonders Saiko. "I mean—"

Mutsuki twists his sweatshirt pocket again, the chocolate bar Urie gave him sitting untouched on the bedspread next to him. "You don't understand."

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Urie declares.

"Maybe I _should_ want to."

"But you don't."

"If you're afraid," Saiko says. "It doesn't matter. If you're dissociating, we can still—"

"When I dissociate, I don't know what I'm doing!" Mutsuki screams, grabbing his pillow and tearing at the edges as if he's trying to rip it apart but it's stubborn, it won't budge, it stays a damn pillow. "When I—when I—if I snap, I could—hurt you! All of you! And I don't want—I don't want—anyone to meet that— _thing_ —" Sobs tear from his throat. "I can't even remember—they say—they say—"

"They?" ventures Saiko.

Mutsuki takes in Saiko, sitting on the carpet and peering up with an innocent face, Shirazu, watching with his eyes wide, and Urie, with nothing but sympathy on his face, sympathy Mutsuki wants to wash off because it shouldn't be there. "The police—after my parents died—"

"Is that when this started?" asks Saiko.

Mutsuki shrugs. "As far as I know." _But really, who knows_?

_Maybe me, when I'm crazy._

_But they're both me._

"What happened to your parents?" asks Shirazu. "Y'all have my story and Saiko's, but not yours. Or Urie's."

"My parents were murdered," Mutsuki says. "And my brother too. With an axe." He remembers blood dripping down his hands, the axe. _An intruder… Mommy… Daddy…_

"Mutsuki!" Saiko leaps to her feet, her jaw open. "That's _terrible!"_

"Yeah," says Mutsuki, his heart breaking and crumbling. "Especially because the police say I did it."

Saiko's jaw drops. Shirazu's brow creases, and Urie's face dissolves into complete disbelief.

Mutsuki stands there, fists clenched. _What if I snap now_? _No, I feel like myself—I think—_

"Did you, Mutsuki?" ventures Saiko.

He laughs, even though there's nothing funny about it at all and each laugh feels like his father's foot flying into his stomach. "I don't remember. If forensics is to be believed—" He covers his face and collapses onto the bed again. _Yes. Yes, I did, and I don't even know what happened. I can't remember._

He remembers his father tearing at his shirt. He remembers choking on water. He remembers his brother laughing, Mommy ducking out of the room. And then—blood, and a wooden axe in his hand, and the police at the door. _"Someone broke in and killed them!"_

It was the only explanation that made sense at the time.

_You didn't deserve it_. _None of you did._

_Daddy was right. He was right. He was right, He was right, he was right_ —"He said—I was a waste—good for nothing— _he was right."_

_You should have drowned me, Daddy. Then you'd still be here, and I'd be—_ be what? Be where? Happier? Nothing?

"Mutsuki," whispers Saiko.

"He was _wrong_ ," interjects Urie.

_What?_ Mutsuki can't look up. He only sees blackness. "I'm a murderer."

"Yes, but he beat you, he assaulted you, you were a child who needed help and no one came—" Urie starts.

"I hate myself for killing them!"

"So maybe no one deserves that, but _you didn't deserve what they did to you either!"_

"Would you listen to yourself?" Mutsuki cries out, sitting up and glaring at him. "I killed another child—my brother! My mother, my—"

"And that was wrong, but you're not just that!" Urie screams back at him.

"I'm a murderer! I'm _sick!"_ Mutsuki yells.

"So is my sister!" cries Shirazu. "Tooru—I don't hate you. I'm upset because—it's a huge burden—your illness might be mental, but—it's still just that."

"You can get better," Saiko insists, grabbing Mutsuki's fists. "I _know_ you can."

Mutsuki shakes his head, sobs heaving from his chest. "What if I don't?"

"I'd still love you," blurts out Urie.

_Love?_

Mutsuki scoffs. He digs his nails into his palms. "Why? Why are you all still here? Why aren't you running—you should request new rooms, you know, I'm—" _I can't believe this; I can't._ It's more terrifying than anything Mutsuki's ever experienced before.

"I don't believe you'd hurt us, but if you did try, we can take you down," Shirazu informs him. "And if you think hypnosis will help, or make it worse—we'll support you. We want you to get _better_ , Tooru."

"Because we all love you," says Saiko as the light outside the window fades.

"Because even if you are a murderer, you're more than that. You're funny, and you're kind—you're the kindest person at this school besides maybe Kaneki and Hinami," says Urie, putting his hand on Mutsuki's knee. He closes his eyes. "And because it's agonizing being alone."

Tears fall from Mutsuki's eyes. He tries to glue his lips shut and can't.

Urie wraps his arms around him, and Mutsuki presses his face into the crook of Urie's neck. He sobs freely, messily, and Urie holds him even though he has to be staining Urie's shirt with tears and snot.

"Help me," Mutsuki pleads.

"We'll help you, Mucchan," Saiko promises, stroking his hair. "We love you. Platonically."

Shirazu sucks in his breath.

"What?" asks Saiko.

"Nothing," Shirazu says. "We do love you, Tooru." And Mutsuki feels his foot fly past to kick Urie.

Urie pulls away. "I'm _in love_ with you, Mutsuki."

_Huh?_

_Me?_

Mutsuki shakes his head. _But I'm a mess_.

"Sorry," whispers Urie. "I didn't want—don't want—to make you uncomfortable. I just—you don't have to reciprocate, I hope you know." He grimaces. "I don't care. I think—" He sucks in his breath. "It's a privilege to be in love with you, Mutsuki."

_"Aw,"_ says Saiko. "But it's true, Mutsuki. You can hate us, and we'll still care. We don't expect or want anything out of caring for you except caring for you."

"Damn right," says Shirazu.

_You're all still here._ Mutsuki looks up at their faces. Tears roll down Saiko's cheeks. Shirazu smiles softly. And Urie—he looks as if he's fighting the urge not to crawl under a rock, but he still stands there, looking at Mutsuki with determination.

This entire year, Mutsuki's concentrated on Kaneki. _Does Urie know?_

"If you're sick, and if you'll always be sick, I want you to get as better as you can," Urie says.

_Because you love me?_

_Complete me, even if parts of me are disgusting?_

_You don't see me that way._

Urie holds up the discarded chocolate bar and presses it into Mutsuki's hand.

_You see me how I want to be_. _But you're not blind either._

_Do I really want to try this?_ Mutsuki opens his palm and lets the chocolate bar drop. _Now I have to._ Urie looks confused.

He leans in and brushes his lips against Urie's.

Saiko squeals.

"Was not expecting that," comments Shirazu.

Urie blinks rapidly. Mutsuki gulps. _What if he thinks I felt obligated to?_ "I wanted to."

Urie pulls him close again, cradling his head against his neck. Mutsuki feels Urie's pulse pounding against his cheek, and he holds Urie.

* * *

"Mr. Sasaki? Your room service is here!" calls a hotel employee from outside his room.

Kaneki squints at his image in the mirror. The bleach Shuu recommended worked. His hair's a snowy white. "Coming!"

He takes the tray, thanking the sweet older woman before he shuts the door. Tsukiyama bought him a room in a five star hotel, because of course he did. It's over an hour away from the school, but within walking distance of another red light district. Kaneki pulls out his cheap, prepaid phone and texts Touka. _I'm heading out tonight._

He remembers Arima telling him once that he grew up as the child of someone in a brothel called the _Sunlit Garden_. Except no one seems to have heard of it.

_How do you feel?_ Touka texts back.

_Fine,_ he types.

_Scared?_ she responds, and he lowers the phone.

_Makes sense,_ she adds. _Be careful._

_How's everyone?_ Kaneki asks as he tries to eat some rice. His stomach feels like it's dancing.

_Ayato's dorm-grounded for the next two weeks because he blew up at Mado_. _He's doing cleaning around campus to get out of being dorm-grounded for a month._

Kaneki snorts. Guilt chafes at him. _Was it because of me?_

_It was because of him._

Kaneki rolls his eyes.

_Got to go,_ Touka texts.

"Bye," he says aloud. He doesn't like how it echoes in this empty room, despite it's sprawling king-sized bed, velvet drapes, and bright TV.

He puts on his coat and pockets the hotel room key, pulling a hat down over his bleached hair as he heads to the elevator. The streets bustle, and yet he feels alone and terrified, as if all the people are staring at him.

At the first bar he goes to, he asks about _Rize Kamishiro_ and the bartender looks at him like he's grown two heads. "No one uses their real name, kid."

_Oh_.

"You have a picture?"

Kaneki shakes his head, the pungent scent of alcohol shooting up his nostrils. "She has—" _Or had?_ It's been months. "Purple hair, glasses—"

"Don't think so," says the man. "Are you her boyfriend?"

"What? No."

"Get lost," says the man.

At the third stop he makes, a dance club, Kaneki finds himself cursing Arima. _What are you doing anyways? Why aren't you trying to prove your innocence? And mine?_

_Why aren't you buying food for me too, Mom?_

He steps out into the street again, cracking his knuckles. _One more stop tonight_. He waits for a stoplight to cross the street.

_I can't leave Rize to suffer._

Down the street, under one of the lights, he catches sight of a familiar hairstyle. _Uta._

_It can't be._

It is. Uta chats with a girl wearing a hat, passing her some kind of card. And then he turns and strolls away, glancing over his shoulder in Kaneki's direction.

Kaneki drops his head, stepping back behind a lumbering man who towers over Kaneki. When he peeks out, Uta's continued on. _He must not have seen me_. Kaneki jogs across the street, his pulse still hammering. _That was close._

He heads to the last stop, a bar. He slips past a gigantic bouncer throwing a drunk man out to the ground and asks about a hooker named Rize with purple hair.

"Seen several of them," says the woman. "But if you're talking about Kamishiro—"

_No way._ Kaneki's jaw drops. "I—I am!"

"Well," says the woman, leaning across the bar and hollering. " _Shachi!"_

Kaneki whirls around to see the bouncer striding back in, long hair dangling.

"This boy's asking about your daughter," says the woman.

The scowl deepens on Shachi's face. He curls his fists and heads to Kaneki.

_Oh hell!_

He tenses, trying to remember Touka's fighting tips. Not that they'll work against this mountain. _I'm about to get my head ripped off._

Shachi's hand closes around Kaneki's neck, and he drags him into the backroom, lined with crates and looking all so familiar— _no, that was somewhere else_ , Kaneki knows it—why can't he _know_ that, why can't his heart calm the hell down— _why_ — "What do you want with Rize?"

Kaneki tries to speak, but he can't. Shachi's squeezing now, and he gags. His eyes strain. His teeth cut into his tongue and blood stings, bitter and salty.

Shachi loosens his grip and Kaneki gags, tumbling forward. "She's—she—we were in an accident together at the beginning of the year."

Shachi crosses his arms over his massive chest. "So _you're_ the other kid."

_Oh no._

"Ken Kaneki," Shachi says slowly.

_Do you hate me for it_?

"I know Kuzen Yoshimura," Shachi snarls.

"Y-Yoshimura?" _From his past?_ "Is he—"

"He's out now. Heard from him earlier today, asking about Rize," Shachi says. "Not that I can find her."

"You're her father?"

Shachi lifts his shoulders. "As close as she'll ever have to one and as close as I'll ever have to a daughter of my own. I found her on the streets after she escaped the crazy brothel she was being raised it. Took her in. She started using the drugs I sold and I tried to get her help, but she—" He shakes his head. "She got us raided, and herself sent to Re and my ass thrown in jail."

"Are you—angry at her for that?" Kaneki asks. _Why do you want to find her?_

"She's my daughter!" Shachi shouts. "'Course not." He curls his fists. "And now she's missing. They must have gotten her again."

Kaneki nods. "They're trying to set it up to look like I—like Kishou Arima and I had something to do with it."

Shachi spits onto the tiled floor. "Arima's a righteous ass, and he would never."

"I wouldn't either," Kaneki says. "I want to—prove our innocence, and save Rize."

"I can't even get anywhere in this city, kid. If your hopes all rest on finding Rize, you're fucked."

_No, no, no_. Kaneki can't believe it.

"They might be more sympathetic to someone who's never seen the inside of a prison, though," Shachi muses. "You got a phone?"

Kaneki nods.

"Give me your number. I'll text you some more places to check out."

A few minutes later, Shachi escorts Kaneki out of the backroom and out of the bar.

_I still don't have a lead._

_I have someone to help, though._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, hypnosis is indeed sometimes used as a treatment for dissociative disorders, though it's fallen out of favor a bit in recent years. I'm not attempting to paint hypnotherapy as dangerous in any way--but the point is that a patient should be able to trust their counselor, and for good reason, Mutsuki does not trust Furuta; hence, it's a recipe for disaster.


	29. Where You're Supposed to Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

It's been almost a week since Kaneki left, and Touka can't sleep. Kaneki hasn't texted since his text about teaming with with Rize's adoptive father.

She sits downstairs in the lounge, a blanket wrapped around her and her math book open in front of her. Noro's assigned an exam for Monday. Everyone else still sleeps because it's six in the morning on a Saturday, but Touka can't. Hinami's bed is empty too—she must be in the shower.

" _No one thought they could do it," Yomo admitted last night, although he seemed uncomfortable talking about her mother and father. "But your mother never doubted it. She did love you from the moment she found out she was expecting."_

 _Why did you give up, Dad?_ Touka wonders. _Or did you, even? Are there pieces I'm missing?_

" _We know it's hard," Koma told her as Irimi gave her more cake. "All you can do when your loved ones are making choices you disagree with is love them. And talk with them, but not in this case."_

Kaneki's a loved one? _Touka would have bit his head off a few months ago for such a suggestion. Yomo looked as if he expected her to do just that. But instead, Touka took a bite of cake._

And that's not all Touka can do.

The sun starts to rise, an orange hue bleeding through the curtains and dribbling across the floor. Something rustles on the staircase, and Touka cranes her neck.

Ayato and Hinami step into the lounge, wrapped in coats. Hinami stops when she sees Touka.

"Where are you going, Ayato?" Touka asks, getting to her feet and pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

"Out," he answers, avoiding her gaze.

"You're not allowed to."

"I don't care," he answers, meeting her eyes, brow creased as he clearly expects her to erupt on him.

And she's not even sure she wants to. "Where are you going, Hinami?"

"We're going to do something that might help Kaneki," Hinami answers. "If we're lucky." Her voice rises. "Please don't tell."

Ayato snorts.

Touka fixes her sight on him. "Are you coming back?"

He nods. "I'll take whatever punishment they give me."

"You're not lying?"

"I'll drag him back if I have to," says Hinami, and Touka notices their clasped hands.

"Well," says Touka, studying her brother. He's taller than her now, almost as tall as Dad was. "You have your reasons. I trust you."

Ayato's jaw drops. Hinami's eyes widen.

Touka steps forward and wraps Ayato in a hug. He doesn't resist, though he's stiff and shocked. "Good luck."

Ayato nods. Hinami beams.

And then they're gone and Touka heads back to her dorm room.

 _I want to_ do _something_.

"I should be with him," Touka says aloud, staring at her phone.

"Why aren't you?" croaks Yoriko, rolling over and blinking at Touka. She rubs sleep from her eyes.

"Sorry," Touka stammers. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine." Yoriko sits up, her hair sticking out on the side of her head. "You love him, don't you?"

Touka gulps.

"You don't even have to say it," Yoriko says. "I can see it on your face. You love him unconditionally."

"Is that how you feel about Takeomi?" Touka tries.

Yoriko smirks. "Maybe."

"He'll come back in the end," Touka says. "I believe that."

"And I think you can help him do that," Yoriko says.

Touka laughs. "Are you trying to encourage me to run away?"

"I'm trying to encourage you to help the boy you love," Yoriko responds.

Touka gulps. The light spilling in front outside lightens to a golden pink. "We'll see."

She showers and dresses, getting ready to head to breakfast with Yoriko. A knock sounds on their door.

"Yes?" calls Yoriko.

"It's me," says Akira, cracking the door open. "Any of you girls seen Hinami?"

"She left with Ayato," Touka states.

Akira's eyes widen. "Where did they go?"

"I don't know. They didn't say," Touka says, crossing her arms.

"Seidou's freaking out," Akira says. "And Shinohara says that if they don't find them within the hour, we'll have to report it to my dad, and then they'll both be in huge trouble. Touka, could you—"

"Why does it matter to you, anyways?" Touka demands, her heart pounding.

Akira blinks. "I'd like for Hinami not to get in trouble."

"Why?" Touka asks again. "You know your father won't care whether or not they have a good reason. They could be visiting the dying and he'd still—"

"Don't talk about my father that way!"

"Why not?" Touka yells back. Saiko and Kurona erupt in chatter in the room next door. Clearly she's woken them up. "You know he tried to get Ayato to spill on Kaneki when there was nothing to say! _You_ know it, and I know it! Kaneki's innocent, and I—I—"

Akira glares at her.

"You know it's wrong," Touka says, her voice scratchy. "Your father may not be a bad man, I don't know, but he's trying to hurt Kaneki and you won't speak up against it—and I don't know why he's trying to do this, maybe because he genuinely believes Kaneki's guilty, or maybe just because he's bitter Kaneki covered for me when I accidentally shoved your father down the stairs."

Akira's eyes pop. Her face whitens, paler than her hair.

"And now I've hurt you," Touka says bitterly, wiping at her own eyes. "I'm sorry, Akira."

 _"You—"_ Akira gapes at her. Her chest heaves. Yoriko shakes her head, her hand covering her mouth.

"He's all you have in the world, isn't he?" Touka's voice cracks. "What do I have? What do any of us have?" _I can't fault you for not confronting your dad_. "I never meant to—I _am_ sorry, Akira."

Akira turns and stalks back to her room, the door slamming, and Touka collapses onto her bed, shaking.

"Touka," says Yoriko, voice hesitant.

 _Do you think I'm a monster?_ Touka peers up at her friend.

But Yoriko's already ducking out the door. Touka feels as if she punched her in the chest. She doubles over.

 _I have to get out of here_. Touka shoves her bag full with underwear, clothing that she seldom wears, and her hairbrush. _If Yoriko tells…_

_I'd deserve it._

_But you wouldn't, Kaneki. Or maybe you would, but I love you. I want to help you._

Her phone rings. Touka peers at it.

 _Shuu Tsukiyama._ Sighing, she answers. "I don't have time to talk."

"No, because you've gotta get out of here," Hide's voice answers.

"Yoriko called and told us," Tsukiyama chimes in. "What's your plan, head out and wander the streets calling his name?"

"No, I—"

"Well, it's a lot easier with the name of the hotel, and his room number," says Kanae.

"Let us help you help him, _mademoiselle_ ," Tsukiyama adds.

Touka can't speak. She gulps, her throat throbbing.

"And Touka?" says Hide. "Make sure he doesn't do anything brutally stupid."

* * *

"I'm surprised it took you so long to come," Eto says, sitting behind a thick sheet of glass, her teal hair tumbling down her orange jumpsuit. "How'd you get in?"

"We had a pass," Hinami answers, her hand gripping Ayato's.

"Of course." Eto frowns. "We must have a talented forger as a student."

 _Good thing you're no longer working at Re_. Ayato still makes a mental note to warn Chie. And Tsukiyama.

"So," Eto says, breaking the heavy silence. "Am I to presume that this is about my father? Or is it about Arima and Kaneki?"

"The latter," Ayato puts in. Eto ignores him and focuses on Hinami. _Whatever_.

"They're innocent," Hinami declares, her voice shaking. "We know it."

"And yet my emails say otherwise." Eto smirks.

"You planted them, didn't you?" Ayato snarls.

"Keep your voice down, or a guard will have to take me back to my cell," Eto says, tossing a smirk over her shoulder at the guard pretending not to be interested in their conversation. "Ayato."

"What?" he asks as she smiles at him.

"It's true I used you to smuggle documents on and off campus, along with money," Eto allows.

He swallows, the walls of the prison suddenly closing in around him. Even Hinami's hand feels too sweaty and too warm and too strong. _I deserve to be here._ Shame shoves its way through his chest, tearing his organs, crushing his heart and flattening his lungs.

"Except it's too bad they didn't think to pay attention to the fact that the kids whom my emails mention working with have never gone missing," Eto says. "Like you, Ayato."

He sucks in his breath. "What?"

"I try to get your names out there," Eto says, shrugging her shoulders. "For helping you get jobs."

"Smuggling jobs?" Ayato shoots back.

"At least it's a job," Eto says. "Do you know what happens to _most_ graduates? Sure, there are exceptions like Koutarou Amon will be, but most of them—they get into easy colleges and can't pay for housing. They have nowhere to go and wind up back on the streets. They wind up in here." She nods at the walls, at the pane of glass separating her from them.

Hinami cringes. Ayato gulps.

"You were never involved, voluntarily or involuntarily, in trafficking," says Eto. "If students already have money saved, they can afford housing. They can make it through a semester or two. They can make friends, get resources, get hope. I don't give a damn what means they have to resort to to get that money." She titters. "Who are we to judge?"

"It's a huge scandal," Hinami says. "And you know it."

"And I'm grateful for it, Hinami, dear," says Eto as she leans forward. "Arima is innocent. But I knew that as soon as I got caught, someone would realize the problem is much deeper than they think." Her lips curve. "And maybe the school will close."

"So what, then _everyone_ winds up on the street?" demands Ayato. The guard's head snaps in their direction. _Stay cool. Keep your voice down._

"I think you should all be out in normal society," Eto states. "Except for a select few."

"Who else works for you?" Hinami bursts out. "And did you ever hear of—"

"I'll never tell," Eto says, leaning back. "I will say that whoever is behind the trafficking—well, I'm sure they follow the same methods. I'll bet they copied from me, planning for this. Though they probably only work with one or two students."

"You know," Ayato says. "You know who it is." _Tell us, you bitch!_

"I have suspicions," says Eto. "But no proof. Although judging by your essays, Ayato, you don't understand the need for evidence anyways."

"Hey!"

"Who?" Hinami presses, sliding her hand up to grip Ayato's wrist and warn him to _shut up_.

Eto cocks her head. "I won't make a baseless accusation based on no evidence. My father did that, too." Now some bitterness weaves through her tone.

 _How did I feel when Yomo and Touka assumed the worst of me?_ Ayato gulps.

"I'd look for the people who seem like helpers," Eto says. "The majority of helpers are actually the best of people, the kind of people who care about the bleeding. But that's also where wolves are best be able to pick off the weak ones."

"Your time is up, so if you're done blathering about nothing," says the guard.

Eto rises. "Of course." She bows to Ayato and Hinami. "Good luck, dear Hinami. And you can do better than him."

_Excuse me?_

"I don't want better," retorts Hinami.

"Good," says Eto, winking as Ayato's face flushes. Hinami shrugs up at him.

 _You really do like me,_ Ayato thinks as they leave the prison to find their taxi still waiting for them. _Thank you for the car, Tsukiyama_.

They climb into the backseat without a word.

"So," says Hinami, pulling out her phone. "I'm trying to draft a list of possible—" She stops. "What?"

Ayato swallows. "Do you want to get dinner on the way back?"

Hinami sets her phone down. She nods, and she looks hopeful.

 _You make me hope._ Ayato steals a glance at the driver, who's focused on the road in front of him. He reaches out, grasping Hinami by her shoulder. She leans in, and he takes in the beautiful sculpture of her face, her brown eyes, her soft hair. "Can I kiss you?"

Hinami's eyes widen, and she snorts. "Yes."

He leans in, closing his eyes. He's kissed girls before, but none that he actually cared about. His lips take her top one. Her hand grips the back of his neck. It's sloppy at first, and wet, but also sweet and she smells like lilacs and roses.

"Sorry," Hinami ekes out. "I've never been—kissed before. I don't think I'm very good."

" _You're_ good," Ayato tells her, resting his forehead against hers. A knot tightens in his belly.

Hinami closes her eyes and parts her lips again. Ayato dives down and her mouth opens wider. His hands clutch her jaw. His pulse speeds up, and she lets out little gasps, kissing him, exploring on her own now.

"Ahem," says their driver. "Just keep your clothes on, okay, kids?"

"Deal," Ayato says, and Hinami shakes her head, turning him back to face her.

They arrive back on campus two hours later, stomachs full of burgers, to find Yomo charging out of the security office, straight for them. The last of the snow melts from the pine trees lining the path. "Ayato! Hinami!"

"I know I let you down," Ayato cuts in, also knowing his lips are probably swollen and hoping Yomo doesn't notice. "So I—"

"Touka's not with you?" Yomo demands.

"Huh?" Ayato looks at Hinami, who shakes her head.

"They're back?" shouts Shinohara as he emerges, Mado on his heels.

"What do you mean, is Touka with us?" Ayato asks. "Hinami and I—we just went on a date."

Hinami nods, keeping her gaze on her shoes.

Mado scowls at them. "You're dorm-grounded for the rest of the year, Kirishima. Fueguchi, it's a month. And I want to talk to make sure you weren't meeting up with Kaneki—"

"We weren't," Hinami insists.

"Ayato," Yomo says, stepping towards him. "Touka's gone."

* * *

"Do you want to talk?" Amon asks when he and Seidou find Akira huddled in the lounge, her knees against her chest.

She shakes her head. Light filters through the windows, purple thanks to the curtains. _I can't._

"Okay then," Seidou says in relief. He slips towards the stairs. Amon hesitates, and then drops down on the couch next to her.

"What do you want?" she asks.

"I'm just—sitting here," Amon says. "You don't have to talk."

"And if I do?" She knows she just said she didn't.

"Well," says Amon. "I've had students go missing before, and I presume this time they are off being Romeo and Juliet, so."

"Touka attacked my dad," Akira says, blood rushing in her ears. "At the beginning of the year. She told me."

Amon sucks in his breath. "What?"

"I haven't told him." Akira shivers. "Kaneki's innocent, isn't he?"

Amon's quiet. "I know we never know people as well as we think we do."

"But you still think he's innocent," Akira presses.

Amon sighs. "I think so."

"I think my father's wrong," Akira whispers. "He doesn't—he lost my mom, and he blames himself for it. And he will never forgive Re Academy, because two graduates killed her. I think he sees her killers in every student's face. Except mine, and yours."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Would you?"

Amon cringes and shakes his head.

"It's not that he hates any students," Akira insists. _Please don't lose respect for him._ "He just—he thinks that by enforcing strict rules, and punishments, he'll be able to prevent them from being anything like those two who killed my mom in that robbery."

"I know," Amon says. "I think the same thing, sometimes."

"And what do you find?"

"It doesn't work." Amon shakes his head. "And that—I don't know, I don't know, I don't _know_ what to do."

Akira watches as the lavender curtains flutter. It's unseasonably warm today, so she cracked the window. "I'm afraid."

Amon turns to look at her.

 _Don't tell me I'm foolish,_ Akira thinks, her face burning. _Don't you dare, Koutarou Amon_.

His hand comes out to land on her shoulder. "Me too."

Akira draws in her breath. It hurts, shards of air cutting at her raw throat. "Losing my mom was—awful for me. And for my dad too, I know. Touka and Kaneki—both of their parents are gone, aren't they?"

Amon nods.

 _No wonder they're so devoted to each other_. She looks up at Amon, her heart aching. "You know I think of you and Seidou like—like—you both matter so much to me, and I can't—if one of you was accused, I think I might—I would—"

"I know," Amon cuts in. "I was thinking the same thing." His fingers rise to brush her chin.

 _What's this?_ Startled, Akira blinks up at him.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"No," Akira says. "It's fine." Her heart pounds. "I _did_ try to kiss you that one time." _Are you going to reject me again?_

Tears well in her eyes. _Please don't.  
_

He squeezes his eyes shut.

_What?_

He shifts, grimacing. "I—I—"

 _What?_ "You what?" she ekes out.

"I—I mean—I love you," he says. "And I'm—sorry—"

Akira's jaw drops. _Love? For real?_

He swallows.

She wraps her arms around him, head against his chest. _You—you're here for me.  
_

Amon exhales. "You told me you hated me once."

"I did?" Akira pulls away. "Well, I—never trust what I say drunk." _I want this_ — _you're—_

Amon smirks, his fingers running along her jaw. He smells like spiced cologne. It sets Akira's head spinning.

The door bangs, and Seidou hurries out of the stairwell, his head down.

"Seidou?" calls Akira, prying herself away from Amon. _Are you okay?_

He turns around. "I'm busy."

"With what?" Akira calls. "Can we help?"

"We've all failed at being RAs," Amon says wryly. "Maybe we can commiserate."

"I'm busy," Seidou repeats, tone harsh. "Sorry."

He ducks outside the door, leaving Akira stunned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the rabbit leads Kaneki to Wonderland.


	30. Deep Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Enjoy ;)

_You're here, that's all I need to know_

_"A Little Fall of Rain," Les Misérables_

* * *

Touka hurries through the hotel lobby, her sneakers squeaking against the pristine marble floor. _Seriously, Tsukiyama? You had to pick the swankiest hotel in the city?_ A gold-plated fountain giggles in the center. Guests mill around near the check-in desk, purple, red, and black suitcases trailing behind them. One blond toddler races around, laughing as his mother chases him.

 _Kaneki should be here. It's morning._ Touka slips past the help desk and towards the sign for elevators. She taps her foot as she waits, head down. Surely someone will see her and realize she's not the kind of riffraff who belongs here, with her torn tights and faded skirt.

The elevator dings, and Touka ducks inside, pressing the button for the seventh floor and then the door close button. It shuts, and she exhales as the elevator surges upwards.

The doors slide open, and Touka heads into a carpeted hallway. She left her phone at the school to keep them from tracking her and wrote Kaneki's room number on her palm. The ink's smudged, but she can still read it.

When she gets to the door, she knocks. _Please be here_. She doesn't know if she can loiter outside the room until he gets here. And what if he's in trouble? There'd be no way to reach her. _Open up!_

"Who's there?"

Kaneki's voice, groggy.

Touka inhales. "Room service."

There's a click as the door unlocks, and then Kaneki's there in an old t-shirt and sweatpants, gaping at her.

"Hey," she says, lungs seizing.

Kaneki shakes his head. "Wh-what are you doing?" He steps back to let her in and shuts the door.

"I'm helping you," Touka croaks. "Fuck Re Academy."

Kaneki rubs his face. "Did something happen?"

"Sort of." She tells him about Akira. "And I realized that I wanted to be here. I _want_ to be helping you. I still want—my education, obviously, but it can wait."

Kaneki grimaces. "But if this doesn't work—if we don't prove anything—then you won't—"

"We will," Touka cuts in, reaching out and taking his hands. _Please let me help you._ "If you want me to leave, I'll go."

He hesitates, then shakes his head. "Please stay."

She nods, but can't escape the fear he's just telling her what she wants to hear. _You're still so afraid of someone knowing you, but it's all you want_. He closes his eyes and then leans in, taking her lips in his. Touka's not sure how long they stand there kissing, but she's suddenly very aware that they're alone in a fancy hotel room with a rumpled bed behind them, and she breaks away.

"Tsukiyama doesn't do things casually," Kaneki remarks, waving his arm around the room. Enormous windows open up to sprawling blue sky and a view of the city. "I'll text him to get a room for you too."

Touka nods, and then her jaw drops. "Your _hair."_

Kaneki's fingers comb through the white strands. "I figured a disguise was necessary."

"It looks terrible."

Kaneki frowns. "You should change your hair, too."

"I'll stop straightening it, but I'm not bleaching it."

"We can buy other colors," Kaneki suggests.

Touka shrugs. "That I'll do. So long as I get to choose the color."

"As we've already established," says Kaneki, holding up his phone. "I clearly have no taste in hair color, so you'd _better_ pick it." He frowns. "He says no?"

"Tsukiyama?" Touka peers at the phone. "Does he not have the money?"

Judging by the " _have fun kids"_ complete with winky face and kissing emojis, that's not Tsukiyama's issue.

"I hate him," complains Touka.

A few hours later and Touka's hair is a soft blue, as are Kaneki's fingertips because he insisted on helping. He smiles at her. "It looks good on you."

She flushes. "When are we going out?"

"I usually head out around nine." Kaneki frowns. "I'm supposed to meet Shachi tonight."

"I didn't know Rize had a father," Touka says as she takes a seat in one of the high-backed chairs next to the gigantic window. She rests her chin on her fist. It almost feels as if she could tilt straight out the window, fly around the city like a bird. She likes the image.

"What're you thinking?" asks Kaneki.

"That I wish I could fly," Touka says.

Kaneki doesn't laugh. He takes the seat across from her and grabs a napkin from the small tea set up across from them, and a pen. Touka cocks her head, hair still damp against her neck. Within ten minutes, he's drawn a crude image of Touka with wings sprouting from her back. Flaming wings, although Touka's not sure that was Kaneki's intention. She laughs.

"I don't think Uta would give me a passing grade for this," Kaneki admits.

"I love it." She puts it in her pocket.

They watch a movie before ordering room service for a _Haise Sasaki_ , and then they get ready to go out. Touka changes into a dress and some heels she took from Yoriko and stuffed in her backpack. Her hair fans out from her face, bushy and lighter than she's used to.

"You look—"

"Stupid?" _Is this my payback for the hair comment?_

"No," says Kaneki, as if that offends him. "You look beautiful."

 _Oh_. Touka's jaw drops.

They meet up with Shachi at a small bar that they have to use the transit to get to. Shachi barely gives Touka a second glance. _So you're Rize's father._

_You love her, like our dad loved us._

_You did love us, didn't you, Dad?_

Shachi offers them beers, but both Touka and Keneki decline and Shachi rolls his eyes. "You two are too good for that place."

"No, we—" Kaneki starts.

"Forget it." Shachi leans back. "I may have someone who might be able to help you. He used to work under Yamori, but he doesn't much like me, but if you two call this woman—her name's Miza—she says she'll get you a meeting with him tomorrow. He works out of Aogiri Tree, or he used to."

Kaneki's knuckles whiten. Touka swallows. _Will you be able to handle that, Kaneki?_

"What's the number?" asks Kaneki, voice faint.

"I'll call," Touka cuts in. _You don't have to do everything_.

Miza does agree to help them, but she refuses to meet them before the next day. At least she agrees to meet closer to the hotel rather than near Re Academy.

By the time they get back to the hotel, Touka's yawning. "Have you heard from Arima?"

Kaneki shakes his head as they enter the elevator. He presses his lips together as if it bothers him.

And frankly it should. Arima has to know that Kaneki's run away _. If he really cares about him, why hasn't he done anything? Are you still trying to leave this all on Kaneki's shoulders?_ Because Touka doesn't buy that Arima didn't know Kaneki would try to prove his innocence. Not a psychiatrist as renowned as him.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Kaneki says.

"Huh?"

"I mean—" Kaneki turns red. "I think we're both tired, and—not tonight."

"I didn't mean that," Touka protests. "I just meant—it's a king-sized bed, Kaneki. It's like over three times the size of those narrow things we sleep in at the academy. There's plenty of room for both of us."

Kaneki hesitates. "You wouldn't mind?"

Touka shakes her head. She ducks into the bathroom and brushes her teeth with the fancy toothpaste the hotel provides, and changes into her gym shorts and t-shirt. She climbs into bed while Kaneki's in the bathroom and closes her eyes. The memory foam absorbs her tension, and the pillow's fluffier than all the pillows she's ever owned in her entire life combined. The city glitters in golden light outside the window.

He slides into the opposite side of the bed minutes later. Touka's pressed against the edge of the mattress, her heart beating louder than she imagined it would. _Can he hear it_?

_Damn you, Tsukiyama._

_But what did you think would happen when you came here?_

Touka presses her face deeper into the pillow. _I do want to._

She wakes to a light rain falling against the window. Blinking, it takes Touka a moment to remember where she is. She rolls over to see Kaneki still asleep, white hair falling over his forehead. He looks peaceful.

 _I love you_.

As if he heard her, Kaneki stirs. His eyes flutter open. Touka flushes. _Now I look like a creep._

"Morning," he mumbles.

"Morning," she responds, dropping back. The clock read 10:25.

"Tsukiyama says Ayato and Hinami are dorm-grounded for eternity," Kaneki reports, studying his phone as he lies flat on his back, staring up at the message.

"I saw them sneaking out yesterday," Touka admits.

"What for?"

"I don't know." Touka explains. "I think they had a good reason. Hinami, at least."

Kaneki smirks.

"Ayato really just misses our dad," Touka says. A shiver runs through her. "He blames him for leaving us."

Kaneki rolls over to face her. "You never really talked much about him."

Touka presses her lips together as she turns to face him, both of them hugging their respective pillows. "If I tell you," she begins. "Then you—if you want to know me, please understand that I want to know you, too, okay?"

Kaneki blinks, but he nods.

"Dad was paranoid after Mom died. He wanted to—wanted to make sure we'd be safe. I don't know how he went about doing that, but one day he was there, making us make promises—me to teach Ayato, Ayato to protect me—and then he was gone, and our neighbor reported us to the police as abandoned kids, and we ran because we were scared. Yoshimura took us off the streets, but before that, I had to fight for everything, shoplift food, all that." _And I'm so afraid I'll always have to fight._

"I'm sorry."

"Ayato thinks he's dead. Or so he says. I don't know if he actually believes it."

"And you?"

"He's alive." Touka presses her eyes shut. "And I miss him."

Kaneki's fingers brush against hers, and then he clasps her hand between his. "My mom died from working too much." His voice comes out small, as if he's having to pry it out.

"What happened?" Touka asks.

Kaneki hides his face in the pillow, but his voice, though muffled, comes understandable. "She tried to help my aunt—her sister, at our expense. We'd go without food and I would read my books to distract myself—if I said I was hungry, she'd sometimes hug me and tell me that it was okay because we were being _nice_ , and it was better to be hurt than hurt, and then other times she'd hit me." He draws in his breath. "And sometimes I feel like I hate her for it." His voice trembles.

"I think that's understandable," Touka says.

"I'm afraid—after what happened with Yamori—that I really am a violent person. Deep down. I wanted to kill him. And I still want to make her—proud." Kaneki's voice cracks now, shatters. "I imagine—Yamori dying—in the most painful ways—and whoever's doing this to Rize—too—"

"Maybe there's a better way," Touka says. "Maybe no one has to be hurt."

Kaneki snorts. "Not the way the world is."

"No," says Touka. "But she was hurting you. And you matter just as much as anyone else." _You matter a lot more to me_. "And I don't like it when you pretend—it's like you're using being nice to protect yourself." She gulps. "Like I used fighting to protect myself." _You taught me I didn't have to keep fighting. You and Yoshimura._

_Do we deserve this, or do we deserve to be alone?_

"I love you," Kaneki says. He reaches out for her, pushing her hair behind her ear. He leans in and kisses her, lazy and slow and first, and then harsher, deeper. His hands grip her shoulders; his mouth feels around hers. Touka's breaths come ragged. _You're not afraid right now_. She likes this. Her hands slide down his sides. His hand strokes her neck, her shoulders. Touka lifts off her shirt. He pulls away, face red.

_Too much?_

Kaneki takes his own shirt off and kisses her again, his hands squeezing. Flutters quiver in Touka's belly.

And then their phone rings, and they break apart. "It's Miza."

"I'll get it," Touka whispers, reaching for it. "Hello?"

Miza gives her a location, and then hangs up. Kaneki slips into the bathroom.

 _Later,_ Touka understands. She hugs the pillow against her bare chest.

* * *

They meet in a grubby restaurant. Touka looks stunning again, and Kaneki's heart hammers when he remembers what happened earlier that day. He texted Tsukiyama for advice a few hours ago.

"You must be Ken and Touka," says a woman with pink hair who looks vaguely familiar. Kaneki squirms. She leans against a bar.

"Where's Naki?" asks Touka, perched on the edge of a red stool.

"Well—" Miza glances towards the restrooms. A man with slicked-back blond hair, dressed in a white suit, stumbles out, railing at another customer.

 _Oh shit,_ Kaneki thinks. Touka's eyes bug.

"Miza!" wails Naki as he staggers over to them, eyes red and streaming. "He says—he says—Yamori deserves to—r-rot—in hell!"

Kaneki doesn't exactly disagree. Touka cringes.

Naki falls onto Miza, sobbing. The bartender, a mustached man, glares at them.

"H-he—after Yamori, everyone forgot my birthday this year," Naki sniffles. "He actually cared about me—didn't call me crazy—or stupid—"

"You worked for him?" asks Touka. "We're trying to help—"

"Help him?" Naki whirls around to face her. Miza's eyes well up, as if seeing Naki in pain hurts her.

"Maybe," Touka says, glancing at Kaneki.

"We're trying to find Rize Kamishiro, and to do that we need to find Yamori's contacts," says Kaneki. "Within the trafficking—"

"I don't work with that," cuts in Naki.

 _So this is useless?_ Kaneki's heart drops.

"But I worked for Yamori when I went to Re, and then after."

"You went to Re?" asks Kaneki, jaw dropping.

Naki nods, his eyes overflowing. "But I didn't graduate—I couldn't pass—I can barely read—they said I was stupid—and now I can't even read the newspapers for news about Yamori!"

"You're not stupid, Naki," Miza insists.

"I doubt it," says Kaneki, heart aching. "You probably have some sort of learning disability."

Naki frowns. "What's that?"

Kaneki hesitates, and then reaches for his phone and taps out Yamori's name. He holds it up. "'Yamori.'"

Miza shakes her head, gaping at Kaneki. _She knows what he did to me._

But Naki didn't do it. _And just because Yamori was evil to me… he was also kind to this man._

"That's 'Yamori?'" asks Naki, jaw dropping.

Kaneki nods.

Naki grabs him in a bone-crushing hug. Touka gasps. He fumbles to take a picture of the symbol with his smartphone. "Now I can—"

"Naki," interrupts Miza. "I'm more than willing to translate for you."

"Once this is all over," says Kaneki. "I can help you learn to read—there are ways for people like you to read too. You just learn differently. People who say you're stupid are wrong." He remembers his aunt screaming at him, screaming at his cousin that he was stupid and Kaneki was just a show-off.

_You were wrong, Aunty._

"You're on the run," Naki realizes, his mouth curving into a smile. "That art teacher came around asking about you. _Ken Kaneki_."

Touka grabs Kaneki's elbow. He stiffens.

"I'm innocent," Kaneki says. "So is Kishou Arima."

"You wouldn't lie," Miza says, studying Kaneki. "I don't think you would. We'll help you find Rize Kamishiro."

"Yamori had other friends who might know something." Naki squints. "Eto—she helped me get a job with Yamori before I left Re. She's not into trafficking, just into helping—her heart reminds me of yours."

Kaneki blanches. This is not what he wants to hear. _She's not a good person._

_I'm not, either, am I?_

"I'll call you tomorrow," Naki promises, still crying and ordering yet one more beer.

"He's weird," says Touka as they hustle through the streets afterwards.

"He's not bad," says Kaneki. "He's—Yamori must have been to him—like Shachi was to Rize, almost."

"Maybe I'm luckier than I thought," Touka says softly. "Yoshimura tried to push me down the straight and narrow. Rize and Naki—they're doing the best they can, aren't they?"

Kaneki swallows. The words stick in his throat. "It seems that way."

"How does that make you feel?" asks Touka, clasping his hand. The sky starts to drizzle again. "Because of what Yamori did?"

"I don't know," Kaneki admits, voice wobbling. "I don't hate Naki for it." _But_ …

"What you did for Naki was very kind," Touka says. "You're kind."

Now tears spill over Kaneki's cheeks. He shakes his head. "I'm not. I still want to—want to—I want Yamori to suffer." He cracks his knuckles on his free fist and remembers being there, in that room, the smell of blood, the pain that made him feel as if he was too crushed to ever be whole again. "Doesn't that make me the worst kind of hypocrite?" His head hangs in shame. _Who do I think I am to offer to help Naki when I'm like this?_

Touka steps in front of him, her hands grasping his shoulders. "No."

Kaneki cranes his neck up. "Why not?"

"I think part of you's good and part of you sucks, and some of your darker side is a lot more understandable than you think it is," Touka says. "No one's nice all the time, but we can—Yoshimura says we can always choose to be better the next time." She frowns, staring ahead as if she's afraid of how he'll react. "And you—you helped me know that being kind wasn't weak, that I didn't have to always fight, so—I want to help you." She shakes her head, peering at him now through her eyes covered in light strands of hair frizzing in the rain. "And you don't have to be perfect for me to be here."

"Help me," he whispers, and something breaks and he's falling, but she's holding him up.

They kiss in the elevator, in the hallway. They kiss when they get back into their room, the bed neatly made by room service. Kaneki pulls himself away to duck into the bathroom, where he grabs one of the complimentary condoms from the shelf.

Touka sits on the bed, waiting for him. She's kicked her shoes off, and Kaneki follows suit.

_What do I even do exactly?_

_She hasn't done this before either,_ Kaneki reminds himself. But he wants it to be good. For her. For himself.

She pulls his lips down to hers, and it's just as fervent as it was this morning. Kaneki's chest heaves. His hands rove over her body, her breasts and her hips. She hooks her fingers under his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. He fumbles to find the zipper on the back of her black dress. It's stuck.

Touka snickers. "Figures." She struggles with it, finally just yanking it until it breaks free.

Kaneki kisses her neck. He pushes her dress down, and she wiggles out of it, tossing it onto the floor. He's suddenly very aware that the girl he loves is sitting on a bed in a hotel room, kissing him, clad only in her bra and underwear.

Sweat breaks out on the back of his neck. _What if I'm terrible?_

 _What did Tsukiyama recommend again?_ He lowers his mouth to her shoulder and kisses harder.

"Ouch!" Touka jerks back.

"S-sorry," Kaneki stammers. "I—" He looks away.

"Let me guess," Touka comments dryly. "You talked to Tsukiyama."

Kaneki flushes, sitting back, his finger tracing the brocade pattern on the comforter. "I just wanted to make sure it would be—good."

"Kaneki," says Touka, pressing her forehead against his. "I don't care. _"_

_Stop trying so hard to make it perfect._

_Because you want_ —

_Just me._

Kaneki kisses her again on her lips, and she pushes his jeans off and onto the floor. She unbuckles her bra and lies on her back. He kisses her chest, gentle this time, and she lets out a gasp. Her fingers find his hips, and she pulls his last garment away from his body.

He looks down sees her blue hair sprawled in tangles across the white sheets, and a soft smile on her swollen lips. He slides his hands down her midsection. "I love you," he tells her.

She pulls him down to kiss him, wet and sloppy. He pushes her underwear away, and kisses her again, and again, before he starts. And she holds his shoulders, mumbles his name, and he only thinks about the fact that she's here and she cares and he knows it, and she came for him and offered to help him, and she knows, and she loves him, and maybe for the first time in his life, he feels loved too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will never beat chapter 125, but hey, at least here they used protection. 
> 
> Up next: Akira can't ignore Seidou's strange behavior anymore, and Ayato unwittingly takes more years off Yomo's life.


	31. Jailbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! All hell is now... literally breaking loose.

_Look down, and show, some mercy if you can._

_Look down, look down, upon your fellow man._

_"Look Down," Les Misérables_

* * *

Akira slings her bag over her shoulder and heads down to her father's security office, the remains of her lunch bubbling up her throat even though it should have been digested by now. "Dad?" she calls, rapping on the door.

"Akira!" He swings the door open, grabbing her a quick embrace. "How were classes?"

"Good," Akira replies, her scarf uncomfortably warm and scratchy against her neck. She unwraps it as Dad ushers her into his office.

"Just a minute," he says, scowling as his phone rings. He pounces on it, hair hanging over his face, and it strikes Akira just how haggard her father looks.

 _Is this who you fell in love with, Mom_?

_Would you even recognize him?_

Sometimes Akira's not even sure she does. She takes a seat and focuses on the framed photo of her father playing tea with her.

_You did the best you could._

This _isn't the best you can do, is it?_

"What do you mean, no leads?" Dad snarls into the phone. "Work harder!"

"Is this about Arima?" Akira asks when he slams the phone down with a clack.

"No one's seen him anywhere," Dad reports. "They're watching Yoshimura. They think Arima may try to contact him."

"But Yoshimura's innocent," Akira protests.

"Of _that_ , he was," Dad admits.

Akira twists the skin on her wrist. "Do you really think he did it? Arima? And Kaneki?"

"Kaneki was probably caught up in something too big for himself," Dad says. "But it doesn't matter. What he did as a crime still remains, and needs to be—"

"But what if they aren't guilty?" protests Akira. "We already know—Yoshimura looked like a sure thing, there was even video evidence, but—" _Is there any breathing room in your mind? Any doubt at all? Or are all the doors closed?_

"You can't possibly buy that baloney, Akira," Dad says. "You're too smart."

 _And you're too proud_. "What if?" she repeats, digging her fingers under her legs. "Say, by some miracle, they were innocent. Would you try to help them? Or would you still drag them in?"

Dad frowns, tapping his keyboard to wake his computer up. "If they're innocent they'd have nothing to fear."

"But some of them have lost their families to the police," Akira blurts out. _Oops_. Heat rises in her cheeks. "So if—even if it was justified," she adds hastily. "They might be reluctant to trust the police."

"But they should," Dad responds, barely looking at her.

Why _should they? Just because children are taught to trust the cops?_

_Is it that simple? Or is the world more complicated?_

Akira remembers being a little girl and watching her dad dress for work every day as a security guard, his uniform pressed. She bragged about him in school, about how he was executing justice. He was her hero. She prayed at night for God to keep him safe, but she always knew he would be, because he was smart and he was strong and he was doing the right thing.

_Just because you believe it's the right thing, does that make it right?_

_I know who pushed you down the stairs._ And she has no desire to tell him. She remembers reading Touka's file. A mother murdered in a drug bust gone wrong. Her father, arrested but refusing to tell his name for weeks because he was afraid the police would hurt his children. And the note that said Touka didn't know about her father's prison sentence, or his release, or the judge's order barring him from contacting them.

"Amon feels guilty," Akira says. "As Kaneki's RA."

"Amon will be fine," says Dad, pausing to peer at her over the stacks of papers covering his desk.

She drops her eyes. _I don't want him to know I love him_.

"He will be a great man," Dad says. "He is good. Different."

_None of us are different._

"No amount of goodness can make something born broken and evil into something noble," Dad continues.

Somehow Akira doubts Amon sees himself as good, not truly. He _wants_ to be, for sure. And Kaneki… he's the opposite of evil. He's kind. He's always been sweet to Akira, apologetic, clearly burdened by his efforts to protect Touka. _He knew that was hurting me, and he didn't take it lightly._

_My pain mattered to him._

_His pain matters to me._ So does Touka's.

_What can I do? Is it too late?_

The phone rings again and Dad curses. Akira pulls out her phone to text Amon. _Can we talk?_

"What?" Dad erupts. Akira jumps. "What do you mean, _escaped?"_

_Escaped?_

_Did they almost catch Arima? Or Kaneki?_ If they escaped— _keep running, keep running,_ Akira wills. She maybe even prays to a God she stopped believing actually listened to her years ago in middle school, after Seidou Takizawa disappeared from school and Dad told her he blew up his parents accidentally and she realized she couldn't tell him she missed his annoying presence, his scowls every time she bested him on an exam, his subtle encouragements her to do better.

She had a huge crush on him, and her feelings didn't vanish overnight, and guilt nipped at her for years.

"Who?" Akira ekes out the moment Dad hangs up.

"Eto Yoshimura escaped prison."

* * *

"Um, what?" Amon asks in disbelief. He sits across from Akira in Shinohara's apartment. Seidou slouches in an armchair, looking distracted instead of crisp and poised like he did at the beginning of the year.

 _What's going on with you_? Akira wants to demand. Seidou's grades have started slipping, too, and he doesn't even seem concerned about it. Not to mention he's been growing out his hair and it looks atrocious.

"The entire campus is on lockdown," Shinohara repeats. "No one enters or leaves this weekend. Not even staff. And you're to keep close watch on certain charges' communications."

"Namely, Ayato's?" asks Amon.

"And Hinami's, Shuu's, and Kanae's, since they were all involved in capturing Eto," Shinohara says. "Juuzou's, Mutsuki's, and Urie's too."

Akira shifts in her seat. It wasn't just Eto who escaped.

Donato Porpora escaped, too. Amon's barely holding it together.

"Do they think Hinami and Ayato may have been involved?" Seidou wonders. "Since we know they went to visit her." Despite their lie, the prison officials eventually called Mado.

"No," says Shinohara. "There's no reason to think that. The guard reported that Eto simply denied everything. Besides, they helped capture her."

Akira bites back a groan. _Dad's probably already onto it._ "Are they going to be questioned, though?" _There's no way they were involved._

Shinohara nods. "Tomorrow, after school. I don't think it's urgent enough to allow the police in tonight."

 _Plus, you're exhausted_ , Akira thinks. _We all are._

Shinohara dismisses them, and Akira and Amon meet in the lounge. "I don't know what to do," Akira blurts out. "I don't even know what the right thing to do is anymore."

Amon presses his lips together. "Neither do I. I wish—" He stops himself.

"What?" Akira asks.

"I wish—there was a way we could help Kaneki," Amon admits. "Donato—if he's escaped—"

Humming breaks out from the kitchen area, and Akira jumps. She hadn't realized Juuzou was there. _We were speaking too quietly to be overheard, right?_

"Night!" Juuzou chirps, jogging towards the stairs.

Akira shudders. She looks up at Amon. "Text?"

He nods and takes a step towards the stairwell. He hesitates.

"Amon?" Akira ventures. _Please hold me. I need a hug_.

He frowns. "Are you okay?"

She shrugs. "I—can I kiss you?" _You did say you loved me, but—_

"Oh!" Amon's eyes widen. He nods. "Y-yes."

 _You've never been kissed before, have you_? Akira stands on tiptoe, reaching up to pull his chin down.

"I promise I won't block you this time," he mumbles, and she bursts into laughter and has to pull away.

"What?" he asks.

She shakes her head and then presses her lips against his. He cracks his open, covering her top lip. And when he pulls back, he strokes her face, and then presses her against his chest, holding her. She slumps in his arms.

He presses his lips to her forehead. She cranes her neck back, and he meets her lips again, this time opening his mouth.

Seidou bursts out, dressed in his jacket. He stops short when he sees them.

"Seidou!" Akira flinches.

"What're you two still doing down here?" he snarls.

"Talking," says Amon. "And, um—"

"It's okay," Seidou says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I know you two love each other. Glad to see you finally figured it out."

Amon flushes. "Are you looking for Juuzou? He just went back upstairs."

"Are you going somewhere?" Akira asks, fixating on his clenched fists.

"No," Seidou says. "I'm just cold. Good night." He ducks back into the stairwell. Akira and Amon follow.

But instead of going to her room, Akira presses her back against the door to her floor. She can hear Saiko giggling in her room, and Kurona's occasional snip. Yoriko and Hinami are quiet, probably studying. Kimi chats with Nishiki via Facetime.

 _I'm sorry I failed you all_ , Akira thinks, tears filling her eyes.

Behind her, out in the stairwell, she hears footsteps. Akira waits until she hears the door to the lounge close, and then she slips out herself, jogging down. Seidou slips out the front door of the dorm, and Akira breaks into a run. _Where the hell are you going?_

She bursts outside, teeth chattering, and scans around. She can't see him, but she hurries down one of the cobblestone paths, rubbing her arms as gooseflesh erupts. _It's too damn cold._

She spots a figure up ahead and ducks behind one of the trees, bark damp against her back. Peering out, she spots Seidou heading off the path, towards the oak tree Akira remembers hearing Ayato used to get off of campus.

 _Where are you going?_ She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. She clamps her hand over her face, huddling behind the tree and shivering.

Akira waits in the garden for Seidou to return, and when he does, it's from a different direction, the direction of the mailroom. He enters Dorm Block 20 with his chin practically scraping against his chest, it's hung so far down.

 _Amon_ , Akira texts, knowing he'll be asleep and the earliest he'll see it is tomorrow. _I need to talk to you ASAP._

* * *

"Really?" Ayato asks, stuffing his feet into his shoes.

"Really," Seidou confirms. "You're supposed to head over right after classes end. Don't be even a minute late, or—"

"Or what? I'll be dorm-grounded for next year too? You won't be here to enforce that," Ayato snaps.

Seidou sucks in his breath, and then turns and storms towards his room, slamming the door.

"Is he actually sad to leave this place?" Ayato asks, staring at the door in shock. _Are you insane?_

"I would be," Juuzou chirps, pulling out a bag of Skittles to take to breakfast. "It's the closest thing to home I've ever had."

Ayato thinks of the cramped, one-bedroom apartment where he lived with his parents and Touka. Dad took the couch and let Touka and Ayato share a twin bed. _Who lives there now? Do they have any idea what happened to its past occupants?_

He finds Hinami scowling in the lounge. "You, too?"

She nods, taking his hand.

"I hope Touka's okay," Ayato says aloud.

"She is," Hinami says. "I'm sure of it."

Classes pass by in a blur. Ayato flunks his math quiz, but he could care less. Shinohara and Yomo wait for him; apparently Irimi and Furuta are with Hinami. Mado, of course, asked to be a part of Ayato's interrogation.

He details the same story he's told before, when they got caught coming back. He's the one who forged the papers—that part they all know is bullshit—and he and Hinami went to talk to Eto because they're worried about Kaneki and think he's innocent and she could prove it. "But she kept denying it."

Her words echo in Ayato's mind. He'd really love for it to be Mado. But it can't be, because he doesn't have a single kind bone in his body.

 _People like Shinohara, Yomo, Irimi, and Furuta all fit Eto's description better_. The idea sickens him. _Well, maybe Furuta… his job is literally supposed to be helping us and he seems more interested in trolling us all and laughing about it._

"Ayato?" asks Yomo.

"Huh?" He snaps back to it.

"Who really forged the papers?"

"I did."

"Liar," Mado says.

"Fine," Ayato says. "I'm lying about that. But I won't tell you who. It wasn't Hinami, so don't even think that."

"Fine," says Yomo.

At least it doesn't appear like they have any kind of manufactured proof on them, because both Ayato and Hinami are released and told to go back to the dorm. Except Shinohara has to stay and talk with Mado for a bit, so Ayato takes Hinami's hand and pulls her back towards the gym.

"I'm so confused," Hinami admits. "How on earth did she manage to escape that place?"

Ayato shakes his head. "No idea."

"I guess she might be like Kaneki and Arima," says Hinami. "Not guilty of trafficking, but not trusting the cops to prove it." She presses her lips together as they duck into the gym. Hide waves at them, a basketball under his arm. Ayato leads her up the stairs to the second floor track, but neither of them feels like walking and they drop down onto the blue floor.

Ayato tilts his head back against the wall, looking up at the lights glaring from the ceiling. "We are going to be watched like hawks the moment we get back to the dorm. Between Kaneki and Eto and Touka—"

"I almost envy them for running away," Hinami admits in a small voice, her chin resting on her knees. "At least they're doing something, while I'm still—just useless."

 _What?_ "You're never useless," Ayato insists, getting to his knees and resting his hands on Hinami's shoulders.

"I almost want to believe that," she responds.

He presses his lips against hers just as the dinner bell buzzes. Hinami jumps. Laughter echoes below and basketballs bounce.

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

"I have instant ramen in my room," Hinami admits. "I don't want to—go back to being watched just yet."

He nods and wraps an arm around her, holding her close, breathing in her floral scent. The lights flick out, and Hinami yelps. The doors slam below them.

"Matsumae's gone," Ayato says, peering down. He turns back to Hinami, squinting in the dark. She tilts her head, hair falling like a waterfall over her shoulder. His fingers trace her lips. She kisses his thumb. Ayato sucks in his breath.

She wraps an arm around his shoulders, pushing him back and climbing onto his lap. Her knees rest by his hips, and she sinks her mouth down onto his. The wall digs into the back of Ayato's head and he doesn't care. His heart beats wildly. " _Hinami—"_

"I love you," she breathes, and her words burn into his chest. He digs his fingers through her hair, kissing her mouth, her chin, her ears and her neck. Hinami gasps and rises up, and he kisses her navel through her shirt. Her lips land on the top of his scalp, his nose, his shoulders.

And then Hinami freezes, and Ayato realizes that his body is reacting to this far more than she probably expected. "I—"

"We can," Hinami says, settling back down on his lap.

"What?" Ayato wracks his mind. _Does she mean what I think she means?_

Hinami puts her hand on his abdomen and slides it lower. "If you want to." Now her voice wobbles, uncertain.

"Do _you_ want to?" he asks, still panting. " _Here?"_

She lifts her shoulders. "I don't really care where. I just—I want to be with you."

"You're sure?"

"Are you?"

"Hell yes," says Ayato, his heart thumping. He leans in and then curses. "I don't have—condoms." _Hell, I don't even know where to get them!_

"I do," Hinami admits, a small giggle bursting out.

"What?" _This is definitely a dream because nothing makes any bleeping sense._

She digs through the pocket of her sunny yellow dress, the one she wears over thick leggings, and holds out one. "Tsukiyama gave them to me after we got back last weekend and told me he hoped he wasn't too late."

Ayato snickers. "Good grief."

"I know," says Hinami, shaking her head. "I almost died. But…" Her voice trails off.

Ayato turns her face back towards him and kisses her. "I love—you, Hinami." _You should know._

They take their time lifting clothes off, and Ayato insists on laying them out to make a makeshift bed, or at least something more comfortable. The entire time, he avoids looking at her until she pulls him closer, her arms around his waist and his around her shoulders. And then he feels like he won't be able to stop drinking in the sight of her, even through the shadows of the darkened gym. He runs his finger down from the top of her throat to her belly and below. Hinami pulls him closer, thrusting her hips up.

Their bodies meet and Ayato holds his breath. Hinami groans his name and Ayato lets go then, moaning hers.

 _This is real._ She's real, her arms clinging to him, her voice soft, her eyes _happy_. And this feeling inside him, bursting over him, shaking through him—it's real too.

He collapses on top of her, his head resting on her chest.

They take their time getting dressed. "I don't know when we'll be able to do that again," Ayato admits.

"We'll find a way," Hinami assures him.

"You liked it?" He pulls his skinny jeans on, zipping them up.

Hinami laughs, the sound echoing. "Yes."

Ayato grabs his sweatshirt and t-shirt. "Well, good." Hinami pulls her dress over her head, hair still rumpled.

The lights switch on. Ayato spins around to peer over the railing and see Uta entering below, gaping.

Hinami turns scarlet. At least she's fully clothed. Ayato's hands tighten around his shirts.

"Oh my God," says Uta, turning his back to them. "Get dressed and get down here _now_ , Kirishima and Fueguchi."

"Hinami's dressed," Ayato calls, but Uta doubles over, clutching his knees. Ayato quickly shoves his clothes on, pocketing the used condom so no one will find it. The walk down the stairs feels like a walk of shame. He reaches for Hinami's hand and hesitates. _Will this make it worse?_

She grips his hand.

"Okay," Uta says when he sees them, gulping air, but, like a fish deprived of water, it doesn't seem to be helping. "I think—you two—I'm going to escort you to your dorm. People are looking for you."

"Are you going to tell Mado?" asks Hinami, her voice trembling.

Uta's voice softens when he turns to her. "No." He turns back to Ayato as he escorts them out. "I _am_ going to tell your uncle."

 _Fuck_.

"I do understand teenage—feelings," Uta says. "And loneliness can drive you to do stupid things."

 _Are you lonely?_ Ayato wonders. _But you're such good friends with Yomo and Itori_.

 _Does it even matter? My uncle's going to kill me_.

They don't have to go far before Yomo comes across them. "You found them, Uta!"

Uta relaxes. "They were in the gym."

"Ayato—"

"I know, I know," Ayato cuts in.

"They were in the process of getting dressed," Uta adds, and Hinami drops her head in mortification.

Yomo's jaw drops. "What? You were—what?"

Ayato gulps.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"I wish," says Uta.

"Why?" cries Yomo.

"Hormones," answers Ayato. Hinami shrinks. "At least we used protection. Tanakamaru's health lessons did some good."

"Great," says Uta sarcastically.

"Can we go back to the dorm?" whispers Hinami.

Yomo walks them back without a word, leaving Uta behind. He looks traumatized.

"Get inside," Yomo orders, and they obey. He marches off.

"Sorry," Ayato says to Hinami.

"I don't regret it," she replies.

He cracks a grin. "Too bad Furuta sucks at counseling, because both of them look like they need it."


	32. Some Who Wander are Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

_Have I fallen so far_   
_And is the hour so late_   
_That nothing remains but the cry of my hate_   
_The cries in the dark that nobody hears_   
_Here where I stand at the turning of the years?_

_"Valjean's Soliloquy," Les Misérables_

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" Seidou stands in the doorway to Dr. Kanou's office, stiff as a board. His head stings and his neck aches. He better get a decent amount of sleep tonight.

"Come inside, Seidou," urges the doctor, setting down a water bottle and screwing on the cap. Sunlight filters in through a window, the kind of faded afternoon sunlight that shows that day's already given up.

Seidou enters, shutting the door. "You got the package, right?"

"I did indeed." Dr. Kanou rounds his desk and leans against it. "Sit down."

Seidou obeys. His lunch churns in his stomach.

"Why did a girl follow you out of your dorm?"

Seidou's eyes widen. "No one followed me."

"Someone did," Dr. Kanou insists.

Seidou bolts to his feet. "Were _you_ following me?"

"No," says Dr. Kanou. "Someone else happened to be passing by and noticed."

"Which girl?"

"It was too dark to tell." Dr. Kanou narrows his eyes. "I'm sure _you_ know, though."

 _Akira_. He shakes his head. "I don't." _Besides, she and Amon went back upstairs_.

"I find that hard to believe."

"I don't!" Seidou glares at him. _What more do you want? I'm nothing now anyways! There's nothing for me to_ —"I have no reason to lie!"

Dr. Kanou frowns, crossing his arms. "Are you sure?"

"Kaneki and Arima are taking all the blame," Seidou says. "So why—"

"We want to make sure it stays that way," Dr. Kanou says. "You'll go out again in two nights. And this time, Seidou, you'll make sure you aren't followed." There's an unstated _or else_ that lingers at the end of his words.

"I won't be," he promises.

The door flies open. Seidou freezes, panic shooting through him like a thousand needles all pumping some kind of drug into him.

Kurona stands there, her eyes flashing. "It was me."

"What?" Dr. Kanou asks, dumbfounded.

"I followed him," Kurona says.

"You stupid _idiot!"_ lashes Dr. Kanou. Seidou flinches. Shock stabs into Kurona's face.

But then her eyes narrow, and Seidou realizes it's probably not the first time Dr. Kanou's pummeled her with his words. "I just wanted to make sure he was being careful," Kurona states as Dr. Kanou continues to rail.

" _Careful?_ You endangered—"

"I wanted to—"

"If you had gotten caught, they could have realized he was missing—"

"But neither of us got caught!" Kurona yells, clenching her fists. "And I—just wanted to make sure he was okay—" Her voice trembles.

"Shut up, you stupid girl," says Dr. Kanou. "You're just proving I made the right decision. Your mind hasn't been stable since Shiro kicked the bucket."

Tears stream down Kurona's face. Seidou almost wants to step closer, hold her up, but she's more than capable of standing on her own. She glowers at Dr. Kanou and stalks out.

"Aren't you worried she'll tell?" asks Seidou, head pounding. He clutches his skull, trying to massage the tense muscles into relaxing. No such luck. His head only screams more.

"No," says Dr. Kanou. "She's got no one else who even gives her any _hope_ that they'll be a parent to her, poor thing."

"Did you set Arima up?" asks Seidou.

"No," says Dr. Kanou. "My partner did. It's all too easy to get staff information, like passwords, from that imbecile we have as principal."

 _Matsuri_. Seidou frowns. "He has access to staff's passwords?" _That's an almost creepy level of control._

"Matsuri's incompetent," Dr. Kanou says, unscrewing the cap on his water bottle and taking a swig. "But yes. The only reason he has this job is because his father was principal before him. But it's not a fucking monarchy." He waves his hand. "You can go, Seidou. Be careful next time."

He nods. Plodding back to his dorm, he finds Kurona sitting on a damp wooden bench.

"Was it really you?" he asks, coming to a stop.

She shields her eyes. "No."

 _It must have been Akira_. "Why did you lie, then?"

"Because I came by to ask him about something, and heard you yelling, and I know you'll be devastated if anyone finds out it was Akira."

 _So you know it was her, too_. Seidou scowls.

"Kanou will buy it for now," Kurona says, swinging her legs and tilting her head back to look up at him. "I miss being a part of something. It's plausible enough."

"As long as he does buy it," Seidou says. He's not sure what to say, or do. It sticks to him, what she did. _Do I owe you now?_ _Does Akira owe you? How exactly does this work?_

She snorts. "But I don't miss ruining lives. And that's what you're doing, you know. That money comes from trafficking people."

Just like that, Seidou feels as if she kicked him in the stomach.

"My other option was to say we were dating and I was mad at you or wanted to protect you or some romantic bullcrap like that." She smirks up at him.

Seidou shakes his head. _Me? Dating you?_

"You like it?" she asks. "Working with Kanou?"

"No," Seidou says. "But I don't have other options."

"Maybe you should create other options."

 _How dare you?_ "And how are you doing with that?" Seidou snarls.

"Terribly," Kurona answers, cocking her head. Her legs still swing, one at a time now. "I feel so lost."

All the anger whooshes out of Seidou, because he _knows_. He understands. All this—all the money he's making—all the prestige he has as an RA—he feels so empty, and no one's even noticed he's leaking.

"Are you heading back to the dorm?" asks Kurona.

He nods. _I guess? Where else is there to go?_

She leaps to her feet.

"Seidou," says a voice, a deep voice that cuts through the malaise wrapping around him. Kurona's eyes widen and horror etches into her face.

Amon and Akira emerge from behind a tree, both with their arms crossed.

 _Motherfucking_ —"Were you _eavesdropping?"_ He turns back to Kurona. _Did you set me up_?

But she covers her face, arms quivering. _I guess not_.

"So," says Akira, tears beading in her eyes. "You—"

"You _bitch!"_ Seidou erupts. _Oh, what does it matter—what does it matter, what does it matter, what does it fucking matter? I'm so lost—I'm so—this is the end for me, right here. I'm going to jail._

_Congrats, Kaneki, you'll be fucking free._

Kurona cries next to him. Seidou gulps. _Should I say she wasn't involved? But Dr. Kanou will—_

"Don't talk to her like that!" shouts Amon.

"Why not?" Seidou screams back. "You heard—you heard _everything_ , didn't you?"

"You're an RA! You're my friend!" Amon yells back.

"I'm not either of those things anymore!" Seidou shouts. His temples throb. He tenses, balling up his fists. _I should run. I can run—I can run—_ does he even want to?

_Maybe I should go to jail. The humiliation would suit me._

"Seidou!" Amon grabs at him and Seidou swings his arm up to deck Amon in the face. He tumbles back, but he doesn't return the blow.

_Why not? Why not?_

"Let us help you," Akira pleads, grabbing his arm. " _Both_ of you."

"Fuck _off!"_ He jerks his arm away from her. "What can you even do?"

"Nothing without you!" she bellows.

"You can always make a right choice," Amon begs, getting to his feet and rubbing his jaw. "You can, Seidou. Even if you've messed up really badly, you can always make a better choice, no matter what—even if it's hard—we'll help you."

 _I can't._ Seidou covers his face now.

"What about me?" whispers Kurona.

"We want your help, too," Akira tells her.

Seidou drops his hands from his face. "You won't turn me in?"

"Not if you help prove Kaneki's innocent, and Arima, and take down the real culprit. Which I'm presuming is Dr. Kanou," Akira adds. Tears spill down her cheeks. "I don't want to turn you in, Seidou."

 _I don't know what to do_. Seidou hesitates.

"I'll help," says Kurona.

 _You're just desperate to feel like you belong,_ Seidou thinks. _But so am I_.

"Thank you," says Akira, keeping her gaze on Seidou.

He remembers them kissing in the lounge. _What do you need me for? You have each other now, right_?

But they both still look at him like they _want_ him. Even knowing he's the worst of the worst. And Akira even knows what he did to his parents.

_I don't have any hope left for myself._

_But you two—you deserve better than this awful place and this awful life. And you might be able to have it._

"Okay," he whispers.

* * *

"Everything's going well, Kuki?"

Urie shuts the door to Furuta's office and takes note of the principal. He nods, hoping to slink away as quickly as possible. Mutsuki's waiting in the dorm room. _We're_ dating.

"I feel like we haven't caught up in awhile," Matsuri says, giving him a small smile. "I miss you."

"There's not been much to report on," Urie points out. "With Kaneki gone and all."

"Ah yes." Matsuri gestures for Urie to follow him into his office. Urie grits his teeth. Matsuri pushes open his door. "Must've forgotten to lock my door again."

 _Are you that stupid?_ Urie shakes his head as he follows him in. Half the kids in this place would go into a feeding frenzy if they learned they could break into the principal's office with little to no resistance.

He takes his usual seat, tapping his foot against the floor. _What if I just say I'm dating someone?_ Hell, he hasn't even told Furuta, and doesn't plan to. The man has not earned an iota of trust yet. He's still nagging Mutsuki about hypnosis, but so far Mutsuki's holding out.

"What's on your mind?" asks Matsuri. "Your grades are quite good, I see." He checks the computer. "Even in chemistry. I knew Tatara wouldn't hold that incident against you."

"Don't you ever worry about someone breaking in?" He can't help but ask."Especially with all the—things going on—around here?"

"If you're talking about Eto Yoshimura, I have no reason to believe she broke into my office," says Matsuri. He shrugs out of his jacket. The top button of his shirt is undone. Far more hairy chest peeks out at Urie than he ever wanted to see, or imagine.

 _Gag me._ "I didn't think she had," Urie says, although that's not quite true. He wonders. "What about Arima? Or Kaneki?"

"Do you believe they're guilty?" asks Matsuri.

"Do you?" Urie knows Mutsuki's convinced they're innocent. And, if he's honest, he thinks so too. But he's also not convinced running away will help prove their innocence.

"It's hard to believe about Arima," Matsuri muses, rubbing his chin. "But the evidence does look quite solid with the emails between him and Eto, and the only one who has access to staff email passwords, besides individual staff, is me."

"Do you really have access to all their passwords?" _Do you keep them in a locked drawer or am I expecting way too much?_ Urie could scream.

"Yes," says Matsuri. "And student passwords, too. But we never use them unless it's life or death. I've given Kaneki's to the police."

 _Anyone could have snuck in here._ Urie's pulse picks up pace. _I have to tell Mutsuki._ He scans the room, noticing the photographs and portraits of previous principals. Most of them have the same last name: Washuu. "Did your family found the school?"

Matsuri nods. "They did indeed."

"Do you like working here?" Urie wonders. _Because I sure as hell can't imagine coming back to this place._

Matsuri frowns. "Like, dislike—it's irrelevant. I'm here, and my job is to keep the school running." He picks up a pen and bites down on it. "Not that people like Eto Yoshimura, Kishou Arima, and Ken Kaneki are making it easy for me. Usually students are headaches, but that's expected. To have the staff —betray—" He shakes his head. "Circumstantial evidence is adding up against Kaneki, too. His... schedule lines up with reported meetings in Arima's emails. I knew Kaneki would bring problems. Though I didn't figure this."

"Why did you want me to give information on him?" Urie asks, remembering all the emails he sent Matsuri about when Kaneki came back to dorm, whether he lingered late— _oh, fuck._

_You aren't involved, are you?_

Because that's the perfect kind of information that someone could use to set someone else up.

Vomit surges in Urie's throat. _You played me._

And all this time he thought he would play Matsuri.

"Because," says Matsuri. "He was not a good fit for the school. I knew it, and—"

"But what happened—do you think he was involved?" _That it was somehow his fault?_

"I think," says Matsuri. "He's the kind of student who makes a very good victim, and everyone who sees him knows it. I'm surprised he lasted so long in this place. I don't need a dead kid to explain away to the press. If we were to catch him doing the wrong thing, it'd be easy to recommend him being taken away to a psychiatric facility." He sighs. "It would appear I was wrong—unless, of course, I wasn't. But either way, he's created too many headaches for me."

 _What about someone like Mutsuki?_ Urie struggles to keep his teeth clenched together. He came from a psychiatric facility, or so he's said. A criminal one. "There are plenty of kids like that."

"There aren't," Matsuri says. "Not here. You have those who excel and rise above—like you, like Koutarou Amon—and you have those who fall apart, like Ayato Kirishima—and you have those who float along and but can take care of themselves, like your friends Shirazu, Mutsuki, and Yonebayashi. Kaneki's obsession with helping everyone was going to get himself killed, if it hasn't already."

Urie manages a nod. _He'd be sickened to know that we want to help Mutsuki._ The idea revolts Urie. _I love Mutsuki._

 _You're a cold-hearted bastard_.

_I don't want to be like you, titles and prestige be damned._

Matsuri dismisses him, and Urie stumbles back to the door, shame eating away at his insides. _This whole place is a sham._

_I hate it._

_No one cares about us._

When he reaches his dorm room, he finds Mutsuki alone. "Urie?" He sets a book of poems down.

"Come paint with me?" Urie requests.

"You mean come watch you paint?" Mutsuki quips, reaching for his shoes. "Sure."

"Thank you." Urie stuffs his hands in his pockets. _How am I going to tell him?_ Their shoes smack the wet mud. The smell of earth and spring pervades the campus. Urie clears his throat. "Matsuri wanted to talk to me today. After Furuta."

"Oh?"

"He's in love with me," Urie says.

Mutsuki stops in his tracks. Urie turns to face him, fear suddenly seizing his lungs. _You won't hate me, will you?_

"He's told you that?" Mutsuki asks.

Urie nods. "He hasn't—done anything more than that." He shudders. "He's gross."

"Has he touched you?" Mutsuki's breaths come quick and shallow.

Urie shakes his head. "Not—sexually." He lowers his head. "I flirted with him earlier in the year, though—before I—"

"Why?"

"Because I would have done anything to get ahead." Urie clenches and unclenches his fists. _Yes, this is who I am. You already knew that, didn't you? Or did you think I was better than that?_

Mutsuki wraps his arms around him, and Urie caves, holding Mutsuki. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

"I can't," Urie croaks out, taking Mutsuki's hand as they head to the art studio. "Mutsuki, I think I know how they're setting Kaneki up. And it's partly my fault."

"What do you mean?"

Urie explains about the unlocked door, the passwords, and his spying on Kaneki. Mutsuki's jaw drops, and black shame clouds Urie's mind. "I'm—it's—I know it was wrong."

"I don't really think I'm one to judge," Mutsuki whispers. "I'm not happy, though. I want you to—be better than that."

 _You believe in me,_ Urie realizes. "But—I feel—like no matter how hard I try, it's all pointless—I'll never be anything—I thought if the principal was paying attention to me—"

"You are never pointless," Mutsuki insists, grabbing his face, and Urie's never seen Mutsuki like this, eyes alive and glittering, determination trembling in his fingers. "You matter. You _helped_ me."

"I always—" Urie sucks in his breath. "Takeomi—his dad is a cop, right? And his dad and my dad were partners, and then—when there was this raid on a trafficking ring—that investigation was my dad's life—and Kuroiwa, he left—my dad said he could hold people off—he was trying to protect the rest of his squad—and he died and Kuroiwa just—" He curls his fist. "I promised I'd be better than him. To prove that my dad shouldn't have died, he wasn't just another disposable—"

"And he chose his squad over himself," Mutsuki says. "Over you."

Urie flinches, but Mutsuki might as well have pried those words from his mind. He nods, unable to speak.

Mutsuki hugs him. Urie wants to hide his face in Mutsuki's shoulder and never emerge. He breathes in Mutsuki's soft, spicy scent.

"Chocolate?" offers Mutsuki, pulling out a small wrapped candy.

Urie laughs and pries himself away. "Mutsuki, you really might hate me for this, but I have something to tell you."

Mutsuki frowns.

"I don't like chocolate. Or sweets in general. I bought those for you."

Mutsuki's jaw drops. He shoves Urie away from him, but when Urie stumbles back and looks up, Mutsuki's laughing.

Urie takes off running towards the art studio. Mutsuki chases, calling after him, and Urie turns around just in time to stick his tongue out at Mutsuki. And then he trips over a loose cobblestone.

"Careful!" Mutsuki catches his arm. They duck into the art studio, both still laughing. "What're you working on?"

Urie heads to the basement, where he pulls a cord to flick on a dusty light bulb. "Nothing for class. Just for—my own satisfaction." He passes two easels and a table covered in clay. The third easel is his. He hesitates, and then pulls the cover off.

Mutsuki freezes. Urie licks his lips. "Is it—"

"It's me," Mutsuki whispers.

"I wanted to paint something I'd enjoy thinking about," Urie says. "Or someone."

"I look nice," Mutsuki muses, peering at the image.

"You look really fucking handsome," Urie says. "And awesome. Or that's the goal. If _nice_ is all you look, then I need to do more work."

"I like the look on my face," says Mutsuki. "I look—pensive."

"It's your resting face," Urie tells him, trying to find his paintbrush. _It's the face that sets my heart beating like crazy._

_Actually, all of your faces do that._

Mutsuki turns to him and raises his lips to his, and when he kisses Urie, Urie feels whole, as if this is who he's supposed to be and everything else rights in his world. _We're two broken kids. And now you know just how broken I am, too._

_But I still love you, and you love me._

"We should tell Saiko and Shirazu about Matsuri and Kaneki," Urie pants when they break apart. The sunlight falls golden and scarlet behind the small window just below the ceiling, coating the grass outside and washing into the basement. "See if we can come up with a plan—they don't have video cameras anywhere useful—"

"I agree," Mutsuki says. "We have to find a way."

 _You used to love him, too_. Mutsuki told Urie when they started dating. And Urie finds he isn't even that jealous, because he's the one Mutsuki's holding. "Maybe we can ask Ayato to help—he and Hinami seem pretty determined to—"

"Yeah," agrees Mutsuki. "Hinami told me—" He stops.

"What?"

"They got caught—you know—screwing. By Uta."

Ayato is no surprise, but _Hinami?_ Urie snickers. "I would pay to have seen Uta's face."

"Would you ever—you know?" Mutsuki ventures.

Cold washes over Urie. He sets the paintbrush down and turns to fill a small cup with water in the rusted sink. "Have sex?"

"Yeah." Mutsuki's voice comes out a whisper.

 _What do I say?_ Urie swallows. The water overflows, icy. He twists it off. "I mean—sure. Someday. But you—you shouldn't feel—pressured." He wonders whether Mutsuki would even be okay with it, given his gender issue. "The last thing I'd ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable, or pressured, or—"

"I'd be open to trying sometime," Mutsuki says, twisting his hands around the belt of his coat. "But I might—if I got upset, we could stop?"

"Of course." Urie dips his paintbrush in green, to shade in Mutsuki's hair. "And like I said. There's no pressure. Whenever you want to. If you didn't want to kiss me, that'd be fine too."

"I like kissing you," Mutsuki admits.

 _Keep painting, Urie!_ he yells at himself. Right now, though, every inch of his body urges him to turn around and plaster his lips against Mutsuki's.

"And if we did, could I leave my binder on?" Mutsuki asks. "I think I'd feel more comfortable that way."

Urie stops, his muscles freezing. _Are you thinking of doing this—soon_? He nods, his mind galloping ahead. _Stop, Urie._

"Urie, you're dripping paint on my face," Mutsuki points out.

Urie yelps and blots it away.

_It's fixable. Totally fixable._


	33. Should Haves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! There's some underage drinking this chapter.

_What if we never find Rize?_

_What if I'm on the run for the rest of my life?_

Kaneki perches on the foot of the bed, listening to Touka shower, his head in his hands. _And it's her life too—her life I'm screwing up._ He tries to remember that she's making her own choices, but it's hard to scrape away the sludge of self-hatred.

_Why did I ever think I could do this?_

"Ready?" asks Touka as she emerges, towel-drying her hair. Today she's clad in a blouse and jeans that perfectly hug her legs. In the week since Touka's been here, they've spent the time they're not combing the streets or waiting to hear from Shachi or Naki watching movies, drinking coffee, talking and using more of the hotel's condoms. They're getting better, Kaneki thinks, learning more about each other, and yet some part of him still wants to clamp shut, refuse to open up. But when she kisses him, or leans her head on his shoulder or stares out that massive window and tells him about the bird she and Ayato had as kids, his gates soften, dissolve, and he pours himself out too, and so far, she's done nothing to suggest she wants him to just be a locked-up statue.

_I'm still so scared._

" _At least you're admitting that now," Touka muttered last night._

" _And you?" he asked her, fingers running through her hair._

" _I'm terrified. Of what we're doing, of—" Touka stopped, biting her lip._

Us, _Kaneki thought, heart pounding in his chest._

" _Myself," she said._

"Ready," Kaneki confirms, getting to his feet. "Let's hope Naki has something for us today."

"You have the book for him?" asks Touka. They stopped by a bookstore to buy Naki a comic that they thought might interest him. At least Touka said it interested her, and since her interest in reading is possibly below Naki's, they were probably good to go.

Kaneki nods, and they stride out of the hotel. Both of them duck their heads as they weave through the streets, avoiding puddles from a recent rainfall, and head to the transit station. Touka buys their tickets and they board the train, hand in hand.

Naki and Miza wait inside a bar blaring music from three decades ago, with garish colors painted on the walls and artwork that looks as if a toddler met a serial killer and they decided to create art together. The bar's covered in stains and Kaneki's not sure all of it's alcohol. As usual, in these places, no one asks for an ID. Miza offers them wine. Kaneki declines; Touka hesitates, and then does the same.

"You can if you want to," Kaneki tells her, shifting on the uncomfortable, backless stool.

"Try it first," Miza says, thrusting the glass of red liquid under Touka's nose.

Touka sips it and wrinkles her nose. "It's bitter."

"You're probably more of a sweet wine person," Miza informs her.

"Kaneki?" asks Naki, chowing down a beer along with some fried chicken.

 _Why not? I'm already wanted for questioning in a far more serious case than underage drinking._ He leans over and tastes it. "Not too bad." Not his thing though, either. He hands Naki the book, and Naki immediately tears up and tries to read. Kaneki patiently goes through the first page with him. Shachi finally arrives almost an hour late, grimy and shining with sweat.

"So what have you heard?" Touka asks, drinking her soda.

"There's going to be an auction," Naki says suddenly, snapping the comic shut. "Or like, a trade-off. Not really an auction."

"When?" Kaneki demands, his pulse picking up pace.

Shachi's jaw tightens into a snarl. "No one's selling my daughter." He sets his fist down on the bar. The bartender glares at him, and then changes it into a huge, goofy grin when Shachi glares back. Clearly he doesn't want to aggravate a man of Shachi's size.

"If Rize isn't there, I'm sure someone will be who knows about her," Miza says.

"When is it?" Kaneki tries again.

"Exactly a week from today," says Naki, thrusting his finger into the air.

"Where?" Shachi growls.

"You can't show up before that date!" Miza objects.

 _One more week._ Kaneki grips Touka's hand. _This might actually be over in another week—Rize can tell them the truth—_

_Will she?_

_Shachi will help us,_ Kaneki hopes. _Even if Rize doesn't want to._

"Dunno yet," says Naki, twirling the can of beer around and around.

"What do you mean, you don't know yet?" squeaks Touka.

"I'll hear from my contact soon," Naki promises. "He said he'd know in three days. They don't want to set it too close, you know. Because of all the weird stuff that's been going on."

"Who is your contact?" demands Shachi.

"He recently escaped prison," Naki says. "Kind of a bastard. Donato Porpora."

"We heard about that," Touka says. The name means nothing to her or Kaneki. "What about Eto Yoshimura?"

Miza shakes her head, blowing bubbles in her wine. "No idea where she could be. No one's heard from her."

 _That sounds ominous_. Kaneki swallows.

"Why not go to the police?" Touka tries.

"Never turn to them," grunts Shachi. "They're taking bribes."

 _For real_? Kaneki's head swims. _Then what's even the point?_

_This is hopeless._

"Oh fuck!" Naki suddenly gasps, clapping his hand over his mouth.

Kaneki whirls around to see two police officers heading in their direction.

Miza spits out her drink. Patrons turn to stare, whisper, and the pounding old music seems to screech louder and louder, adding to the din. One of the officers opens his mouth. "Matasaka Kamishiro!"

 _Not us?_ Not that it matters. _They'll catch us anyways if they ask for ID_. Touka's frozen.

"I'm outta here," Naki declares, wobbling to his feet.

Shachi leaps to his feet. He grasps Kaneki's shoulders, shakes him. " _Find my daughter."_

Kaneki gapes up at Shachi's bulging eyes, his broken teeth. And Shachi turns around, whipping the stool out from under the bar and smashing it against the cops.

"Run!" Miza grabs Naki's hand, and Toula snatches Kaneki's.

The words loosen. "I will!" Kaneki screams, hoping Shachi hears as he punches a cop in the face. Several patrons lunge into the fray, flailing and scrabbling to hurt someone, anyone, just because—because why?

"Through here!" bellows Naki as he barrels through the backroom, pushing out a metal door with a red exit sign overhead. The fire alarm blares. Each wail deafens Kaneki.

 _I promised him,_ Kaneki thinks as his feet strike the pavement. Cops shout at them to _stop, stop, where are you going_ , but they dive into the mass of people leaving the train station. Miza grabs Touka's arm, yanking them both into the station. _I promised him. I have to find Rize._

 _No matter what_.

They jump onto a train seconds before it pulls away and without a cop in sight.

* * *

Seidou rushes into Dorm Block 20, shutting the door to the lounge with the quietest click. His hair sticks to his skin; the mist from the earlier rainstorm just won't let up. In his hand, he holds the letter he did not take to the mailroom. _It's ours._ He pulls out his phone to alert Amon and Akira.

"Everything go all right?" comes a voice behind him.

Seidou jumps. "Jesus, you scared me."

Kurona sits cross-legged on one of the couches, her long hair falling over her face and shadows falling all around her. She pulls her bangs back with her fist. "In all fairness, my redemption rests on the outcome of all this, too."

 _Redemption?_ Seidou snorts.

"What?"

"I've given up on _that_ ," Seidou retorts. "I've got nothing but prison ahead of me and no one but Amon and Akira who care."

"I care."

"About _your own redemption_ ," Seidou points out. "Mine's irrelevant."

"Or not," Kurona replies, getting to her feet. Fleece pajama bottoms with pink hearts cover her legs.

"What would you know?" Seidou lashes out. "I—my parents are dead because of me."

"And I couldn't save my sister," Kurona whispers, pausing with her knee still resting on the couch.

 _It hurts. Losing people hurts_. Seidou sucks in his breath, covering his mouth. "But when you have nothing else to live for, you can live for somebody else. Or two somebodies, in my case," he manages. _Amon and Akira… I will help you. No matter what._ "They're the only people left who matter to me."

Kurona nods. "They seem like great friends." There's a note of wistfulness to her tone.

 _Do you even have friends?_ Seidou wonders.

_I should have reached out more. We all should have._

_Is this all life is, a series of_ should haves?

The stairwell door opens, and Akira and Amon poke their heads out.

"Please tell me you didn't come from the same room," grouses Seidou.

"No, thank you very much," Akira snaps as she enters the lounge. "You got it?" Her eyes trail over to Kurona. "Good to see you. Everyone else is playing some sort of video game in Hinami and Yoriko's room."

"I don't have time to play games right now," Kurona returns.

Seidou holds the thick envelope up. "Got it from that creepy bartender girl in Aogiri." He grits his teeth. "I haven't opened it yet." Because he's terrified it won't be useful. "And we should probably go upstairs. To my room. We can talk there. Akira, you're an RA, you're allowed."

"But I'm not," points out Kurona.

"You are with our permission," says Akira, putting her hand on Kurona's shoulder.

They slip up the stairs and push open the door. To Seidou's surprise, instead of seeing darkness under the doors, Ayato and Juuzou's door hangs open, revealing an empty room, and a cacophony of voices echo in Mutsuki, Shirazu, and Urie's room. Plus a voice that is definitely Hinami's, and Saiko's. And Tsukiyama's.

"The fuck?" asks Seidou. _Really? Now?_

"I doubt it's as nefarious as you think," Amon comments, understanding suddenly dawning on his face. He flings the door open.

Hide, Nishiki, Tsukiyama, and Kanae all huddle on the floor, while Urie and Mutsuki flop across Urie's bunk and Shirazu and Ayato sit on his. Juuzou lolls on Mutsuki's bed, his chin resting on a pillow. A laptop sits on Urie's desk, with Hinami, Kimi, Saiko, and Yoriko all on screen.

"Oh hi," says Tsukiyama with a wave.

"Oh shit," says Hide.

"You're talking about Kaneki, aren't you?" states Akira.

"No," says Kanae.

"We want to help him, too," Amon blurts out, wringing his hands. "We're—we—I know you're helping him evade the law, Tsukiyama, it's obvious. But we don't want to turn you in. We want to _help_ you. Help him."

Seidou's stomach tightens. He could vomit.

"And why would we trust you?" demands Nishiki. "This has all the signs of some kind of set-up."

"It's not," snaps Kurona.

"It's not," agrees Seidou. "Because I am the student working with traffickers, not Kaneki."

Ayato leaps to his knees, banging his head on the ceiling and cursing. Juuzou sits up, back ramrod straight. Mutsuki clutches Urie's hand. _Are you two dating? Whatever._

Shame presses his shoulders. Seidou lowers his head. _I wanted to be someone you could look up to._

_I'm worthless._

"I used to do it," Kurona says, her voice trembling. "That's—really why we left campus, Juuzou, last year."

 _She's calling him Juuzou,_ Seidou realizes. _Not Rei._

"Your taunting had less to do with it than you think," she adds, wiping at her eyes.

Amon's hand lands on Seidou's shoulder, and he knows he should tear it away, refuse to let Amon lump himself in with him and his mess, but no. Amon's clutching him, holding him up and standing next to him, next to Kurona. "They're trying to help Kaneki now."

"Now?" snarls Nishiki. "That's a little late, don't you think?" He glares at Seidou and Kurona.

"Better late than never," opines Hinami from the screen.

"Why are you still on screen?" asks Akira. "All of you. Get up here. Now."

The screen goes blank. Moments later, Seidou hears footsteps on the stairs, and the door bursts open. Saiko, Yoriko, Hinami, and Kimi all stagger in, Kimi shutting the door to the now very-cramped dorm room before she snuggles next to Nishiki.

"Shut my laptop please," requests Urie. Seidou obeys, his face still red.

"We have a lead," Amon says. "Maybe."

"Well, so do we," answers Urie, crossing his arms.

"Eto wasn't a trafficker," states Seidou. "Dr. Kanou is. He's working with that creepy barmaid at Aogiri, but there are clearly bigger—"

"Roma?" Ayato asks in disbelief. "I always thought she was just a ditz."

"An evil ditz," Seidou says. "What's your lead?"

Urie hesitates, and then mumbles about how Matsuri hits on him and leaves his door unlocked and it'd be extremely easy for someone to sneak in and get access to everyone's emails. "Dr. Kanou, I presume."

"They have our passwords?" gasps Hide. "That's a violation!"

"I'm on it," grumbles Tsukiyama, typing into his phone. "I'm getting Chie to hack in and scramble their data."

"Chie's a hacker?" Amon sounds impressed.

"She's pretty good," Kanae says softly.

"So what exactly is Kaneki up to?" asks Akira, leaning against the wall.

"Trying to find Rize," says Tsukiyama. "Or so he's said. He and Touka. He thinks—if they can get Rize to testify—"

"Well, tell them we don't need that anymore!" cries Saiko. "Seidou and Kurona will—"

"I have a text from Kaneki," interrupts Tsukiyama, holding up his phone. "He says two things of import—one, their friend talked to one of those escapees, Donato, who says there's some kind of creepers auction in one week where they might find Rize, and two, the police are corrupt and taking bribes, so we're fucked."

Amon pales. Akira winces.

"If we go to Shinohara—" Shirazu starts.

"We can't," Akira says. "The police are—are—" She covers her mouth.

"I don't want him winding up like Arima," Juuzou comments, thumping his foot against the mattress.

"It's our word against Dr. Kanou's, anyways," says Seidou, spirits flagging. _And who would believe someone who killed his parents?_

"Knowing Dr. Kanou, he's erased his videotape evidence," agrees Kurona.

 _There's no hope_.

"We'll figure something out," Kurona declares, narrowing her eyes at him as if she can tell what he's thinking.

"All of us? Together? I'm sure we can," Amon adds.

"The letter," Akira says. "The papers you've been smuggling—that's proof, isn't it?"

He tears open the envelope. "Maybe." Seidou studies the documents, his heart falling flat.

"What?" demands Juuzou, getting to his knees as Saiko sits next to him. "What's it say?"

"It's—just—records of money," Seidou says. "Spent and _donated_. To a nightclub."

Amon clenches his fists.

"Aka, a brothel," Juuzou declares, glaring. There's a personal twinge to his voice that Seidou's never heard before. "Which one?"

"Nutcracker's."

Shirazu laughs at the name. Seidou fights off a smile. Even Kurona smirks.

"I know that one," Juuzou says. "And I know the owner. She's my mother. Or she raised me."

Ice coats Seidou's stomach. _What?_

 _Is_ this _why your file was restricted?_

And he was so cruel to Juuzou… Seidou's heart sinks even further. Guilt overwhelms him. Judging by the look on Kurona's face, it's drowning her too.

 _No. You need to breathe._ Seidou brushes his hand against her elbow. She turns to him, gaze quizzical. _There's plenty of hope for you._ He can't say any of that, though.

"I say we go talk to her," says Juuzou. "She's known as Big Madam."

"Talk to her? Juuzou—" protests Mutsuki.

 _You already knew, didn't you?_ Seidou knows perfectly well why Juuzou never told him. _Because I judged him._

"I don't care," says Juuzou. "I don't want to talk to her. I have no unfinished business with her. I just want to—help Kaneki. He's my friend. He gave me candy and treated me like a person just as good as any other." He's reciting now, like it's a creed he's memorized. "If talking to her can help us help Kaneki, I don't mind."

"Do you think she would know where Rize is?" asks Hinami.

Juuzou shrugs. "She might."

"Juuzou," says Amon, frowning. "Why isn't she in jail? This—mother of yours?"

"She escaped during a raid," says Juuzou, shrugging his shoulders. "She owned several brothels, not in name but in power. And Nutcracker's is a more respectable one. Plus I never talked much to the police because why would I trust them? Some of them were customers. They went into my aunts' rooms. I saw them." He lifts his head. "Shinohara, I trust."

 _Shinohara used to be a cop,_ Seidou remembers.

"I should go tomorrow night," says Juuzou. "Fridays are busiest; it'll be easy for me to get in."

"You are _not_ going alone," Seidou shoots back. _Old habits die hard._

"Yeah?" asks Juuzou. "What, are you volunteering?"

Seidou's heart starts to pound. "Yes." _I'll see this through. I'll finish it. And when we're through, Kurona, you'll have your future bright in front of you._

"Except I happen to know Mado's having extra security to make sure students don't sneak out at night," Amon says with a groan. "And yes, Ayato, they've figured out where you usually slip out. Hinami told us."

"Sorry," whispers Hinami. Ayato shrugs.

"How about daylight, then?" asks Tsukiyama. "After first period. They won't be expecting that."

"I can show you where the oak tree is," Ayato adds.

"You should probably _come_ then," Juuzou says. "You and Hinami. Or else they'll get suspicious when you're late to class and I don't show. If they think we're skipping, they'll look _on_ campus first. Plus, don't you want to see your sister?"

"Huh?"

"I assume we'll spend the day with Kaneki and Touka before nightfall," says Juuzou. "And then come back and get screamed at by your dad, Akira. Gonna be awful so we might as well make the most of the day."

Ayato turns to Hinami, who's already nodding.

"I can't believe I'm listening to this," Amon says, face pained.

"Oh hell yes, if you're going to see Kaneki, then Kanae and I are coming," Tsukiyama interrupts. "I can get us hotel rooms. We can use the pool. They have an indoor one for weather like this and an outdoor one." Kanae jabs him with his elbow. "Or play games."

Akira buries her face in her hands. The whole situation's almost comical. _We really are the worst RAs ever_.

"I'd like to come," Hide says. "Except I think you'd be better, Nishiki. You're more street-smart, and I have some investigating of my own to do."

"What do you mean?" Seidou asks sharply.

 _"Dr. Kanou,"_ Hide declares. "Don't worry. I won't get caught. But I do think that another—guy—should go with you to that place. Especially if Hinami and Touka will be there too."

"It's not a bad idea," Juuzou admits as Akira scowls.

"Are you really up for this?" Amon asks, studying Seidou.

He lifts his shoulders. "I have to be."

After a fitful two hours of sleep after more hours of planning, with Tsukiyama making good on his threat to get Chie to help scramble the school's data and Juuzou trying to needle Seidou every chance he gets, Seidou gets up to face the day. The sun shines brilliant down on them as Seidou leaves Noro's math class and meets Nishiki's eyes.

_I won't be an RA when I get back. They'll take that title away for sure._

"Seidou," interrupts a voice as he slams his locker shut. Kurona leans against the metal, her hair falling over her shoulders. "Good luck."

He nods, unable to speak.

"You're a good man," she tells him, and then she walks away.

_Good?_

"Let's go," says Nishiki.

"Yeah," says Akira as she and Amon join them. "Let's go."

"Huh?" Seidou gapes at them.

"We're coming with you," says Akira. "I sent Dorm Block 20 an email that the school won't be able to read thanks to Chie, making Hide an honorary RA for the day."

"I can do it," Seidou says, trying to squirm away. _I don't deserve this. Stop trying to give me hope_. "I don't need—"

"Seidou," says Amon, a dark look on his face. His cross glints in the sunlight. "This doesn't have to do with you. I have something I want to face, too."

* * *

Touka wakes to the sound of rapping on their hotel room door.

"Didn't we put the _do not disturb_ sign on?" Kaneki mumbles. He rolls over, his bare chest emerging from the sheets.

"Haise Sasaki!" comes the voice, and Touka leaps to her feet, all the last remaining dregs of sleep vanishing. _The police!_

"We miss you," calls a sweet voice. A different voice.

"Is that who I think it is?" croaks Kaneki. Touka grabs the fluffy bathrobe the hotel provides and throws it over herself, scrambling to get to the door. She flings it open.

" _Boujour!"_ sings Shuu Tsukiyama, winking at her as he, Kanae, Akira, Amon, Juuzou, Nishiki, Hinami, and Ayato file in. He throws his arms out, grin wide. "We _may_ have a break in your case."


	34. The Possessed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This chapter does contain some memories of child abuse, including violence, and also contains sexual harassment.

_Just hold me now and let it be_

_Shelter me, comfort me_

_"A Little Fall of Rain," Les Misérables_

* * *

"Well," says Kaneki, rubbing his head as he squints at all of them. "That's—a plan."

"I'll text Miza and Naki," Touka says, grabbing the cheap phone Tsukiyama must have procured for them. Amon watches as she taps out a text.

"You know where Naki is?" gasps Ayato.

"Yeah," Kaneki says. "Rize's father connected us."

It's strange, thinking of Rize having a father. Amon frowns. They all have fathers, and mothers. _How many of them wanted us?_

He can't even remember his birth parents. The only father he ever knew was Donato. _And he…_

"Sounds _fantastique_ ," Tsukiyama says with a wink. He holds up room cards. "I rented out four more rooms all on this floor. Hinami, you and Ayato have one; Akira, you and Amon have one; Juuzou, you, Seidou, and Nishiki. Couples and then the leftovers."

"Fuck you," Nishiki tells him. Juuzou laughs.

"See you all at seven," says Tsukiyama, his arm around Kanae.

"We should get some sleep," Hinami says, looking up at Ayato. "I only got like a half hour last night."

"I'm sorry, you're sharing a room?" Touka breaks in. "Hinami, you and I could share if—Ayato and Kaneki could—"

Amon smirks as Ayato's face reddens and Kaneki's brow starts to crease.

"We're fine," Hinami says sweetly, taking Ayato's arm.

"What?" shrieks Touka. "Ayato, I swear to God—"

"If you do not use protection I will butcher you," Kaneki finishes, his jaw set and eyes flashing in a way that chills even Amon.

"I am _tired_ ," says Hinami.

"I suppose now isn't a good time to mention Uta caught them?" Juuzou says with a giggle.

Touka looks as if she's about to dump a pot of boiling hot tea over her brother.

"Hey!" Ayato yells.

"Escape time," Akira hisses in Amon's ear, pulling him towards the door. "I'm actually not that tired. I was thinking of checking out the pool. How about you?" They stroll down the hallway with its teal walls and gold-plated hexagon-shaped mirrors.

"I'm—" Amon hesitates. "Really tired, to be honest." His head pounds with memories. Opening a door, seeing Donato, cleaver in hand, red—cleaver in his own hand, red—and then the police officers that came to save him.

 _Which of you are good? Which of you are taking bribes_? He's always drawn a strict black-and-white line. He promised himself he'd stay in the white for the rest of his time here on earth, sins forgiven.

His fingers press the tip of his cross. _They intermingle more than I thought._

_This world is so screwed up._

_Screw you, Javert._

_God, help us_ , he prays. _Help us set a little corner of it right._

"Amon?" Akira asks as she unlocks the door. "Are you thinking about—Donato Porpora?"

The door clicks shut behind them and the lights burst on, illuminating a beautiful room with a thick comforter over the bed, drapes cloaking their city view, and a desk lined with fresh pens. Amon stops by the bathroom, unable to step into the bedroom area. "How much did your father tell you?"

Akira drops into the desk chair, resting her chin on the back. "He told me nothing."

"Who, then?" It's not like it matters.

"I heard rumors once, from his friends." Akira sighs. "So he did raise you."

Amon nods. "I—helped him." And with that his leg muscles loosen, and he can move again. He takes a step, and then another, until he collapses onto the bed, clothes and all. His forearm rests on his brow.

"How so?" asks Akira.

"I found him with another—boy. From the orphanage. He said I was smart—he sold them, and then he killed them—but I wasn't smart." He's making no sense. "He'd ask for help—dismembering."

Akira says nothing, so he rolls over and looks at her. "I hate him."

"Do you?"

Amon hesitates, and he hates himself for it. "Yes." He swallows. "I hate what he did to those—other boys—they were innocent. They just wanted to be safe, and loved, just like me—but he killed them."

"And you?"

 _Stop talking in two syllable sentences_. "He let me live. He—he would buy me ice cream, and laugh with me—he enrolled me in the best school—told the others it was a privilege I'd earned—he—" _Maybe he would have killed me eventually._

"Were you afraid he'd kill you?"

 _Our minds work so similarly._ And so Amon knows he can't lie. He shakes his head. _Only in retrospect._ Tears sting his eyes. _I'm so ashamed._

_Did he love me?_

"He couldn't love me," Amon says aloud. "He couldn't love. A monster like that's not capable of—"

"My dad loves me," Akira says, her voice breaking. "But he treats others—he treats the kids at the school— _terribly_."

Amon rolls over to study her. Akira's shoulders shake, and she sobs against the back of her hand. "Akira—"

"Don't deny it," she insists. "He's not—he loves me, he's the best daddy I could have ever dreamed, or my mother could have ever wanted—but he's let this bitterness destroy him—he's probably a lot more similar to that Donato than you think." Akira throws her hands up in the air, her eyes bright red and streaming. "Maybe it's all—more complicated than I was taught. Maybe he is, and he's the one who taught me—just because you're awful to someone else, just because you're a cruel bastard, does that really mean you can't love _anyone_ at all?"

Amon shakes his head. "But why me?" _Why did he choose me? What was wrong with me?  
_

"I don't know," Akira says as she meets his gaze. Her hand reaches out, the tips of her fingers brushing the tips of his.

 _You're still here._ "Thank you," he whispers.

She snorts. " _Now_ I'm going swimming. You gonna nap?"

He nods, closing his eyes as she heads to the bathroom. But with the darkness comes the memories. His eyes fly open.

"Are you all right?" she asks, stepping out of the bathroom in a black one-piece. Amon's chest constricts at the sight of her. She twists her pale blond hair into a bun atop her head.

"Have fun," he says.

She hesitates. "Are you going to have nightmares or something?"

_Will you think me weak if I say yes?_

She won't. He licks his lips.

"Amon?" she questions.

"Can you… stay with me?" he requests.

Akira's feet pad against the floor. The bed shifts as she climbs next to him and lies down, lacing her fingers through his. He lets his eyes wander over her, over the deep v-neck of her swimsuit, the creamy skin of her thighs, the fading red of her eyes.

She kisses him first, slow and light. Her eyes close, but her chest rises and falls rapidly. She waits. _For me. To see what I want to do._

_What do I want to do?_

He takes the sides of her face in his hands and meshes his lips against her own, turning over so that she's half underneath him. _What am I doing_? Her fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling his chest against hers. His lips sink below her chin, down her neck, to her shoulders. Her swimsuit smells of leftover chlorine that washing apparently didn't get out, her hair of vanilla.

Akira presses her palm flat against his chest, pushing him back. He stops. _Oh_. She's reaching up to unbutton his shirt. It falls open. "I may have spent an embarrassing amount of hours picturing you without a shirt," she mumbles.

Amon's cheeks heat, but he laughs and pulls it off.

She kisses his pecs, his biceps, his abs. "Good grief, you're fit."

"It's a way to distract myself," he admits. "And work on my shortcomings."

"Well," says Akira. "I like it." She peers up at him. "How far do you want to go?"

He runs a finger along her jaw, her skin smooth and soft.

"I see," Akira says, and she wriggles out from under him.

"Akira?" _Did I do something wrong?_

She hops out of the bathroom, tossing something plastic at him. _A condom_. "We don't want Kaneki and Touka yelling at us, either."

Amon rolls his eyes. She gets back on the bed, pulling his palm closer and kissing it. With a jolt, Amon remembers the time he blocked her kiss. Only this time, Akira's soaking his palm with kisses. When she lets him go, he reaches down to side the straps of her swimsuit off.

Akira has to help him figure out how to put on a condom. "I guess you didn't pay attention in health," she says with a smirk.

"Have you done this before?" Amon wonders.

She shakes her head.

"Neither have I."

Her mouth suckles his neck. "That was obvious."

Amon lays her back down, kissing her chest.

She grimaces in pain when he starts. He pauses. "It's okay," she says. "Just—slower." Her hips shift. "Like this maybe?"

He cups the back of her head, hair streaming through his fingers as they both move, slowly and then faster, together.

"To have your first time be with the person you love, who understands you," Akira says, her voice vibrating in her chest, against his lips. "I think that's all I wanted."

* * *

"What happened?" Juuzou asks late in the afternoon. He's just come back from swimming, where Akira and Amon insisted on making out in the pool and embarrassing themselves. Now they're all gathered in Kaneki and Touka's room, because Ayato said it was urgent. Juuzou's hair sticks to his forehead, sopping wet. Tsukiyama and Kanae sit in chairs by a table; Kaneki, Touka, Ayato, and Hinami sprawl on the bed. Amon leans against the wall and Akira drops onto the floor. Nishiki paces in front of the TV, chewing gum. Seidou leans against the bathroom door.

Ayato grimaces. "Shirazu says Shinohara's been placed on administrative leave."

"What does that mean?" Juuzou shouts, panic clawing at his throat. "He's been—fired?" _Not Shinohara._

Not the man who's given Juuzou so much.

"No," says Akira. "Suspended's more like it—pending further review, I'd imagine."

"Please tell me Kanou hasn't taken over the dorm," Seidou requests, gripping his hair. Which is white. Like Juuzou's. And Kaneki's.

"The hell did you do?" shrieks Akira, as if she's just realized too. Amon's nose wrinkles.

"Shut up," Seidou retorts, face scarlet.

"And no," says Kaneki. "Ui has. Shirazu says he's not impressed with being a dorm parent."

Touka shakes her head.

"They've also begun proceedings against Matsuri," adds Kaneki. "To remove him. He's on administrative leave too. Furuta's been appointed acting principal."

"Why Furuta?" complains Kanae.

"Who else even is there?" asks Hinami. "Arima's gone. Marude—"

"Turned it down," Kaneki says.

"Smart man," mumbles Nishiki.

"It's because of us running away, isn't it?" Juuzou asks, breathless. He tries to inhale, one breath at a time, but air won't come.

"It's probably a lot of different things from the past year," Akira says weakly. "But when one dorm has all the problems—and with us RAs—"

" _Non!"_ Tsukiyama leaps to his feet, thrusting his fist in the air. "That is— _bullshit!_ We aren't—it's Kanou's fault, it's everyone's fault who's been trying to frame Kaneki instead of trying to help kids at the school—"

"Which is their fucking _job_ ," Kanae interjects.

"Exactly!" Tsukiyama glares at them all. "We can help Shinohara too. If we fix this. If we get them sent to prison and—"

"We have to try," Seidou says. "I don't want to go back without Shinohara. He's the only one—I think might try to _help_ me. The only one left, anyways."

Juuzou shakes his head and glowers at the red stitches on his hand. _Fuck it! Fuck this!_ He tears them out. Seidou yelps. "We're helping Shinohara," he declares, voice shaking. "We have to. He's helped me—he saved me—" _So many times._

 _I'll make it up to you, Shinohara. I'll make you—proud again_. The promise sears him like fire. He wipes at his eyes. _What about Hanbee, Nakarai, Tamaki, Mikage—all of them? Are they angry with me?_

Seidou looks at him like he's never looked at Juuzou before, with only sympathy. Kaneki gets to his feet and wraps Juuzou in a hug that swallows him, comforts him.

Juuzou breaks free first. "We're leaving in a half hour, right?"

"Yes," says Amon.

"Good."

"Keep them safe, Juuzou," Kaneki says. "I'm trusting you."

"Keep Team Hospital safe yourself," Juuzou replies.

Kaneki ducks his head and nods. His initial plan for the evening before they showed up included revisiting the hospital—potentially dangerous given the likelihood that the nurses may have been alerted to his running away—and asking around to see if anyone remembered anything about anyone who visited Rize. Juuzou insisted he take Touka, Nishiki, Tsukiyama, and Kanae there with him. If Kaneki runs into trouble, between Touka, Nishiki, and Kanae, he trusts that they'll be okay.

But now he has a smaller group than he planned. Which could have its advantages and drawbacks. He doesn't trust Ayato to keep his mouth shut if someone gropes Hinami, which will almost certainly happen.

As Juuzou leads the way to the train station, he has to laugh. He, Hinami, Ayato, and Akira are all plastered in bright lipsticks, gaudy eyeshadows, and too much rouge. Amon and Seidou are supposed to be the johns. Kaneki and his crew look like normal students, dressed in hoodies and jeans.

"Good luck," Nishiki calls as they board a train heading in the opposite direction.

"Midnight," Juuzou hollers back. "Don't be late!" _Or Seidou's having a conniption._

 _This is for you, Shinohara,_ he thinks as the doors to the train slide shut and the people who didn't quite make it on rush away in a blur. Or really, they rush away, and the people wait for the next train.

"Are you okay?" Hinami asks Juuzou, curling up on a chair, silver eyeshadow glittering.

"I'm fine," Juuzou states, clinging to the pole as the train barrels through the city. _She was just the person who raised me._

 _I don't hate her_. He remembers her grabbing the hammer, Marude's comments, the way everyone looked at Rei.

" _You can be Juuzou if you want," Shinohara said. "You get to choose who you want to be."_

 _I'm not Rei_.

 _I was Rei, but I'm not_. He looks at Seidou, slumping against the pole. _You can change, too_.

 _Huh_. He never would have guessed he'd have such benevolent thoughts towards Seidou.

They arrive at the correct stop, and Juuzou leads them through the streets. Several men in suits with designer ties whistle at them. One winks at Juuzou. He flashes a saucy smile. _Too bad I'm not actually a girl, doofus._

"I hate heels," grumbles Akira as she clutches Amon's arm. Ayato peers all around, his earring swinging and his shorts uncomfortably short because they're actually Juuzou's.

"Ayato, sway your hips more," calls Juuzou.

"I will skin you alive."

Hinami snorts. A man reaches to pinch her ass, and she yelps.

"Leave her alone!" yells Seidou, curling his fist. Ayato grabs Hinami.

 _Oh, fuck_. Juuzou stops as the man towers over Seidou. "You pay for her?"

"He paid for both of us," Juuzou calls silkily. "Next time." He winks and grabs Seidou, pinching his neck harder than necessary as he drags him along.

The man lets them go, glowering after them and with his gaze lingering on Hinami.

"There it is," Juuzou announces as he turns the corner. _Nutcracker's,_ the sign reads as it dangles in front of a three-story building, blinking red and green and white like a blasphemous Christmas decoration.

"Honestly, this entire street is awful," mumbles Akira.

Juuzou shoves open the door. The thick, sweet smell of incense envelops them, caressing him with images of his childhood.

" _This is a giraffe."_ He can almost hear the pages in the book rattle and flick as she turns them, his back warm against her chest.

" _You're such a pretty girl, Rei."_

Juuzou grits his teeth. A tall man glares down at them, yellow lighting casting him in a sickly light. "We're here to see Big Madam," Juuzou says.

"Like hell you are. Get out. We don't talk to street whores."

"I'd like to talk to her for other reasons," Seidou puts in, pushing past Ayato and Hinami and standing next to Juuzou. Fallen hairs and crumpled bits of paper are embedded in the carpet below.

"What happened to your hair?" asks the tall man.

Seidou grits his teeth. "Does she want a paying customer or not?"

"Not one like you. Get out now or I'll get my scrapper to take care of you."

_A scrapper?_

_Like—like me? Like Rei?_ Juuzou narrows his eyes and plants his hands on his hips. "Take me and my friends to see Big Madam _right fucking now_."

"You don't—"

"Tell her _Rei_ is here to see her." The name comes out easier than he thought it would.

"That name means nothing to me."

"It will to her," Juuzou snarls. "I don't remember you. You must be new here."

The man glowers.

"What's going on here?" asks a croaky voice, the same voice that told him that it could fix him, make him a girl like she wanted forever.

" _If anything were to happen to you, Juuzou, I would be sad," Shinohara said when he complained about how it wasn't such a big deal Rize was missing._

Juuzou turns towards the wooden staircase. "Hello, Mama."

"Rei." Her eyes bug.

 _Juuzou_ , but he won't raise that point with her, because there's no point. _You knew Rei. And Rei was only ever a doll you tried to sculpt._ He hated sculpting in Uta's class.

"I want to know what you know about Rize Kamishiro," Juuzou says. "And Donato. I know you're working with him again." Donato ran an orphanage, but he sold some of the kids to Mama. And he killed others.

"What, have you become a cop?" Her painted lips shake as she looks at him, chins bobbling. When he was little, Juuzou used to try to count the chins, if only to make the pain more tolerable as she pricked at his skin. His palms throb from where he tore out some stitches earlier in the day. He rubs his hands together.

"No, Mama, I'm in school," Juuzou says. "These are my friends." He thinks Shinohara would smile if he heard Juuzou using that term. "Rize's my friend's friend." Akira narrows her eyes at Big Madam. Amon is speechless, and Ayato and Hinami hold hands. He can't see Seidou's face. "We're trying to find her."

"It's none of your business," she says sweetly. _Too_ sweetly. Juuzou stiffens.

"It is, because she's our friend," Seidou cuts in.

"Rize has no friends, and Rei, neither do you."

"Not true," snaps Amon.

"Tell me where and when the auction is," says Juuzou. "Or I _will_ call the cops on you." He brandishes his phone. "And whoever your scrapper is, he—or she—can't take me, and you know it."

Her purple eyelids glue themselves open. "You're threatening me, Juuzou?"

"I want an answer."

"I see." Big Madam lets out a hearty laugh, stroking her chin. "Is it just because you have some kind of grudge against me? I did the best I could with you—I could have left you on the streets—"

 _And I may have been better or worse off. I'll never know_. He shakes his head. "I don't feel anything towards you at all. I don't hate you—I don't love you—I don't care about you."

Her jaw plummets towards the floor. "You—"

"Are you going to help me or do I have to call the police?" asks Juuzou.

"You'll find Rize when you find Donato," she snarls. " _You—"_

" _Where_ can I find him?" Juuzou asks, tapping the police number into his phone. His thumb hovers over the call button. _I won't fail._ _I won't fail you, Shinohara._ "And where was she before Donato?"

Big Madam laughs, a disgusting sound. "Here. But Donato wanted her. He hates her father, even though he's dead."

"The drug dealer?" asks Seidou.

"No, the one who raised her like I raised you," says Big Madam. "Tsuneyoshi Washuu. The family that runs your school. _They_ run these trafficking rings."

"You're lying!" Seidou bursts out.

Juuzou stomps on his foot. "Where's Donato?"

She smirks. "Planning the auction, and I don't know where."

Juuzou's heart falls.

"You're—" Sirens scream in the distance, creating a ghostly howl. "You didn't!"

"I didn't," Juuzou confirms. "But maybe I will." His heart pounds. The Washuus—the school— _if that's true,_ _there's no place to go back to!_ "Good-bye." He turns.

"You're leaving just like that?" she shouts. "You ungrateful little—"

"What exactly should he be grateful for?" Ayato shoots back.

"I'm grateful for you telling me about Donato, even though I'm sure you're going to warn him, and I'm grateful for the giraffe stories," Juuzou says, spinning around. The incense burns his lungs. "And that's about it."

"You little—freak!" she snarls.

"Keep trying to insult me," says Juuzou. "I don't care about your opinions." _Not your good boy points, not your love._

"I never loved—" she screams, and that's when Amon clocks her in the nose and Akira kicks her in the groin. She doubles over, moaning.

"Sorry," Amon says, gaping at Juuzou. The tall man rushes to Big Madam, struggling to help her. "But you didn't need to hear that."

"Was not expecting that," whispers Seidou. "So she's a—"

"Who knows," says Juuzou, grabbing his friends and hustling them out the door. "Run!"

"Shit!" Akira loses one heel and kicks the other off. "It doesn't matter, Amon, leave them!"

"Is that true?" Seidou shouts. "Re Academy is—"

"No idea!" _If it is, Shinohara can't know—Ui can't—Arima—are you guilty after all?_

_Everything has been a sham all along?_

They race into the train station, all looking over their shoulders for any signs of Big Madam's henchmen. Juuzou's heart falls. "We need to get back to meet up with the others—we have to tell them." He pulls out his phone. "In the meantime, I _am_ calling the police. And we have to get in touch with Shinohara."

"What if he does know?" cries Seidou, gripping his pale hair.

"There's no way!" Juuzou shouts.

"We'll find him," Amon insists. "When everyone gets back."

They make it back to the hotel five minutes before midnight.

Twenty minutes later, and Team Hospital still hasn't shown up, and Juuzou's pacing back and forth, Hinami's crying, and Ayato's screaming into a phone yelling at Kaneki or his sister to pick _up_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's Hanbee and the rest of Juuzou's squad who take care of Big Madam in the manga, but for the sake of managing the characters I changed it here; hope you don't mind!
> 
> Good luck handling that dorm, Ui, you poor soul.
> 
> Next time: Team Hospital runs into a disaster.


	35. Direction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

"I have a—stomachache," Tsukiyama laments, leaning halfway across the nurse's station. She almost spills her coffee and Nishiki can only shake his head. _Haven't you ever been sick in your life?_

"Okay, sir," says the woman, getting to her feet. "We'll have someone take your information straight away. You haven't eaten anything strange or—"

"No, no, nothing like that," Tsukiyama says as Kaneki and Touka sneak past the blue doors and into the emergency ward. "Just—really sudden pain."

"Sudden?" The woman's brow creases. Nishiki chews his lips. "Is it sharp?"

"Um—yes." Tsukiyama glances at Kanae, who stands next to him.

 _Kanae, you better intervene fast. The hell happened to your acting skills, Tsukiyama_? If this is any indication of how Tsukiyama will be on opening night of _Les Mis_ , Nishiki is so not here for this.

 _How's it going?_ Kimi texts.

 _I'm watching Tsukiyama's Razzie award winning performance at the emergency room,_ Nishiki responds.

"Does it come in waves or is it constant?"

"Waves?"

"And you've never had anything like it before?" The woman's voice dips into skepticism. _God, save us._

" _Non_ ," Tsukiyama says. His knees buckle. Kanae cries out and catches him. _That_ , at least, sounded legitimately terrified. _Way to go, Kanae._

"Get him a chair!" orders the woman.

"Will I need a shot?" Tsukiyama whimpers.

"The doctors will have to see about that," ushers another nurse as she helps him into a wheelchair. She glances back at Kanae. "Who are you?"

"I'm his girlfriend," Kanae says.

 _Wait what_? Nishiki gapes. Kanae looks over his shoulder and flushes when he sees Nishiki's expression. _Why lie about that?_

But Tsukiyama clings to Kanae's hand as if he's dying and doesn't contradict him. So maybe he has some common sense left.

 _Honestly, Kanae's pretending to be a girlfriend and he's doing a better job,_ he tells Kimi.

 _Nishiki, I don't know if you're dense or what, but Kanae is biologically female,_ Kimi types back. _Maybe he is a girl._

That's it. Nishiki calls as the doctors take Tsukiyama and Kanae away. "What are you talking about?"

Kimi sighs. "I _mean_ , have you ever paid attention to the way he dresses in gym? He's always wearing sweatshirts and pants. Also look at his face."

"I don't want to look at his face." Nishiki tightens his grip on the phone.

"For God's sake, Nishiki. If you look, Kanae's got delicate features." Kimi snorts. "I figured he was trans or something a couple months ago."

"But he called himself Tsukiyama's _girlfriend_."

"Maybe he's a girl. Or maybe he's nonbinary. Who knows?"

Nishiki shrugs. "Not like it matters." _I like Kanae._ He's just surprised. "How bad is it at the school?"

"Ui's trying not to melt down. I think he's locked us in the dorm tonight, fire safety code be damned. I can also hear him patrolling the stairwell every now and then. Furuta seems kinda amused."

The hospital doors keep sliding open and closed, and each time Nishiki's head swivels around to see if there's any sign of Kaneki or Touka. "Isn't Furuta thrilled at being promoted?"

"Yep. Mutsuki, Urie, and Shirazu are fine. Kurona, Yoriko, Saiko, and I are going to watch a movie even though Ui's ordered us to be in bed by midnight." Kimi laughs. "I don't think being a dorm parent was Ui's first choice of career."

"Hm." Nishiki collapses into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. The news blares in the corner, talking about several unsolved murders. Nishiki cringes. And then they switch to the upcoming weather. "How's everyone else?"

"Dorm Block 20's the newest scarlet letter. Yomo was glaring at us during biology—probably blames us for Touka and now Ayato—and Matsumae had us all running suicides in PE. Itori is pissed because of the play. Banjou showed up for awhile at the dorm; he's actually been quite nice and told me he hopes you're okay."

"I like him," Nishiki admits. "I hope he has nothing to do with Dr. Kanou."

"Me too," Kimi admits. "He said he and Nico were heading out tonight. Well, I heard him telling Ui that. I think he wants to look for you all."

Nishiki inhales through his teeth. A chill skitters down his spine. "Here's to hoping he isn't successful."

"I know." Kimi's quiet. "You will be back tomorrow, right?"

"We should be. Providing we get the right information." Nishiki wipes his palms on his jeans.

"Because if you're not back in a few days, they're talking about dividing us up among the other dorms." Kimi's voice catches. "I like our dorm. I like our floor—it's like having another family. And I never had sisters before."

Nishiki sighs. "The waiting must be killing you." It'd drive him batshit insane.

"It sucks," Kimi confirms. "How's Kaneki?"

"Anxious," Nishiki says. "Also blonde. Or ancient, as in white-haired. Long story. But mostly he's a wreck barely being held together."

"Well, he better hold it together."

"Seriously." Nishiki plants his feet on the ground and slouches over. "Kimi, I—"

"Nishiki Nishio?" asks a voice in front of him.

He freezes, eyes running up to see Nico. "Boo."

"Fuck!" Nishiki screams. A family with a five-year-old and a screaming toddler turn to glare at him. Nishiki's foot flies out to kick Nico in the stomach. The man groans. Nishiki leaps over the chairs, still clinging to his phone.

"What's that?" yelps Kimi.

"He's here!"

"Banjou?"

"The other one!" Nishiki spots the head nurse from the desk grabbing a security guard and pointing at him. _You called, didn't you, you bitch?_

"Shit!" Kimi yells in his ear.

Nishiki careens down the hallway, pushing open the blue doors to the emergency room. He passes a man with a bloodied nose and a doctor leaning over a patient behind half-closed curtains.

"Stop him!" bellows Nico's voice. "I'm calling the police!"

"Tsukiyama!" screams Nishiki, rounding a corner. _"Kanae! Let's go, let's go, let's go!" This place had better not have a dead end!_

"Are you still in the ER?" Kimi demands. "I'm pulling up a map of the area, and Saiko's getting a map of the hospital—I'll get you out of there, I promise, Nishiki!"

"Great!" He knocks over a tray of probably expensive instruments. _Oops_.

"Sorry, I'm better now!" Tsukiyama shouts, emerging from behind a curtain with Kanae in tow. Both of their faces transform into horror when they see the security team barreling at them like a tsunami.

"Call the other two!" Nishiki pants, overturning a chair.

Kanae slams open the emergency exit, and Nishiki follows him and Tsukiyama into a parking lot. "We're on the run!" Tsukiyama yells into the phone at Touka and Kaneki, wherever they are. "Get out of there! Meet us at the hotel!" He hangs up.

 _I've now assaulted a staff member,_ Nishiki realizes.

"Where are you?" Kimi hisses.

"Parking lot! Behind—"

"Take a left! You're gonna have to run along the road leading away from the hospital, okay? And then find the overpass over the freeway and go over it—it'll take you to a busy part of town. It looks like light traffic; you won't have to worry about being run over—"

"Anything! Just get us—" Nishiki's windpipe burns. He wheezes.

"Kurona's got Kaneki on the line," Kimi reports. "It looks like they're trapped—they're gonna have to hide out in an equipment closet, wait for a distraction or—"

Air tears at Nishiki's face as he scrambles out of the parking lot. "Go!" he shouts at Tsukiyama and Kanae, who fly across the street. Nishiki stumbles back, narrowly avoiding being flattened by a car. "That's too risky! We can't lose Kaneki!"

"They better get them out of there!" yells Tsukiyama.

Nishiki rips the phone away from his ear, turning it on speaker. A car blares its horn at them as they scramble up the hill towards the overpass. Brambles tears at his calves, his pants.

"You can't go back or you'll get caught! You need a—"

"Distraction," Kanae gasps. "Then they can escape!"

"What do you have in mind?" Tsukiyama wheezes. The security guards shout from the parking lot, pointing at them. Sirens sing in a ghostly chorus.

_They'll call and get the police to go to the other side—we'll be trapped too—we're not going to be fast enough—the police cars will—why can't there be more traffic?_

Kanae grabs Tsukiyama and plasters his lips against his. "Find Rize."

"No time!" Nishiki screeches.

"They're by a hospital; they'll have to help!" Kanae yells, and then he turns and races in the other direction, towards the edge of the overpass, and leaps off.

" _Karren!"_ screams Tsukiyama.

_Karren?_

Tires squeal. Two police cruisers plow into each other to avoid hitting Kanae, who staggers to his feet and immediately collapses on his back, holding his ankle and writhing.

"Go!" Nishiki grabs Tsukiyama, dragging him away as he gapes over his shoulder.

"What happened?" yelps Kimi.

"Kanae jumped off the overpass," Nishiki grinds out as he and Tsukiyama make it across, rushing through the gathering crowd of people come to watch the crazy person who leaped off the overpass. Even if it's only about two stories high.

Tsukiyama's shaking, his face chalk white.

"Pull yourself together!" Nishiki hisses.

"My girlfriend just jumped off an overpass!"

"She's fine! He's fine!" Nishiki pulls him into an alleyway between a restaurant and a bookstore. "He has to be fine."

 _Kaneki and Touka, will you make it?_ He's pretty certain that Kanae's craziness and potential injuries will distract the security a little bit. Whether it will be enough—

"They made it," reports Kimi. "Saiko says Kaneki and Touka made it out another exit. They'll meet you at the hotel."

Nishiki exhales, leaning against the wall, his t-shirt catching on the bricks. Tsukiyama falls to his knees, clutching his skull. His breaths come sticky and desperate.

 _If that was Kimi…_ Nishiki puts his hand on Tsukiyama's shoulder. "She'll be okay."

"They're going to find out," Tsukiyama says, staring at an overflowing, reeking trash bin. "I don't know if that's what she wants."

* * *

"I don't know how they got away," Banjou says, staring at his cup of black coffee as if it's a void he'd liked to dive into. Koma holds his head in his hands, and Irimi slams dishes down on her counter.

Yomo stifles a groan. _Really, Touka, Ayato?_ Touka had been making such good decisions this year—Ayato, too, made such strides—

 _I'm sorry, Hikari_ , he apologizes to his sister.

"Kanae's going to be okay, though?" asks Irimi, twisting a dishrag between her fists.

Banjou nods. "Just a broken ankle. Matsumae's on her way, as is Ui, so Hirako's temporarily in charge of Dorm Block 20." He glugs his coffee. "Poor kids."

"Huh?" Irimi's brow creases.

"They must be really desperate to go so far as jumping off an overpass to help their friends get away. And we all know Kaneki wasn't involved in that trafficking."

"I doubt any of them were," says Koma with a snort.

"To be fair," Yomo interjects. _Should I say this?_ Oh well, he's going for it. "Kanae has always been a bit—extreme. I've seen him in class."

"True," Banjou says. "They're definitely caught up in something _now_ , though, and in all likelihood it's probably bigger than they can handle." Tears fill his eyes. "I just wanted to help them, bring them back home."

Yomo's phone lights up. _I heard,_ Uta's texted. _Pretty crazy that they managed to escape_.

"Why would they _want_ to come back?" Irimi snaps.

Banjou gapes at her, almost as if he's offended.

"I know _you_ had a good experience here," Irimi says, flicking the towel at him. "But this isn't _home_ for most of them. They don't have a home."

The words burn inside of Yomo's head, sparking against his skull. "Touka does think of this—well, of you and Yoshimura—as her home."

Irimi's face crumples. "I just want her to be—safe. Her and Kaneki _both_."

"I don't know what else we can do," says Koma. "Besides wait."

"Have you heard from Yoshimura?" asks Banjou, leaning forward with his eyes shining. "He could issue a plea—maybe—the news is already finding it out, so why not run with that? If Touka and Kaneki heard it, they might understand that we want to help them, that we'll protect them."

"If we can," mutters Irimi. "I don't trust that snake in the principal's office. He'll run this place into the ground if we're lucky or light it on fire for laughs."

Yomo shrugs. Furuta's slithery for sure, and Uta's promised to try and figure out if he's involved at all. He gets to his feet. "I'm going out."

"Where?" asks Koma, resting his cheek against his fist.

"Out," Yomo repeats, and then he leaves. The cool morning air brushes his face, trees budding with the first signs of new leaves. The sky pales to a light indigo, and somewhere nearby he can hear Kureo Mado chastising a student caught drinking.

Mado's a mess right now. He still can't believe it about Akira and insisted on combing the entire campus for two hours before accepting the reality that his daughter and his protégé had, in fact, run away with known delinquents.

Yomo calls a taxi and climbs in. Uta texts again. _Itori saw you leaving._

 _No tips_ , Yomo responds. _I'm going to talk to_ _him._

Uta doesn't reply, and Yomo spends the entire hour-long ride rehearsing what he'll say when he sees him. The problem is words come scrambled and he can never recite them perfectly. _Why?_

The driver pulls up at the apartment building. Yomo pays him and climbs out, rubbing the back of his head.

Last time Yomo saw him, Yomo told him Hikari's death was his fault, and he cried.

When Yomo heard that Touka and Ayato were in the streets, he felt a knife in his belly, accusing him, and he heard his own voice echoing back to him. _It's your fault._

But Yoshimura found them. He scraped them off the street, and Yomo could breathe again, at least until Ayato starting acting like an edgelord.

He knocks on the door. Several splinters have chipped off, leaving the wood uneven and weak.

The door opens, and his brother-in-law gawps at him, rubbing his eyes. " _Renji?"_

"Arata." Yomo bounces up and down from his heels to his toes. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." Arata stumbles back. The living area's small enough that Yomo can cross it in three paces, with a small teal loveseat and what looks like a tiny beige rug, although it could also be a bathmat. A coffee table made of old wood sits cluttered with mugs, and three photos hang on the wall across from the loveseat: Arata and Hikari at their wedding, which was really just a trip to a judge, a picture of Touka at eight holding up a worm while Ayato cringed, and a picture of the four of them, a family, Touka folded in Arata's arms and Ayato half-asleep in Hikari's.

"Thought you hated bugs," Yomo comments.

"I do. She loved them," Arata says, heading towards the kitchen area, which is about the size of a closet. "Tea?"

"Sure." A door opens to a bedroom just large enough for a bed. "What do you do these days?"

"I—" Arata inhales. "I work as a dishwasher in a restaurant. Nothing illegal. I promise."

"I believe you." Yomo brushes his hair back. It's been two years since Arata was released from prison.

" _I don't know if we should tell them," Yoshimura said one night. "He's facing up to twenty years."_

Good behavior helped Arata out, as did a merciful judge.

" _They said they would protect my family," Arata cried. "I can't lose Touka—or Ayato."_

And you couldn't turn to me because I turned on you, _Yomo realized._

" _Well, by working with this gang, you lost them," the judge said, but showed mercy anyways._

" _They think I abandoned them?" Arata gasped._

" _You haven't written to them," Yomo pointed out. "You_ did _abandon them."_ If only because you didn't know what to say.

_The judge barred him from seeing his kids when he was released._

"Sit down," Arata invites, hanging over a cup of tea. Yomo obeys. "How are—how are they?"

"They've both run away," Yomo states.

Arata's face dissolves into terror. He sets the tea down and clutches his face.

"Touka ran away over a week ago to help her boyfriend, and Ayato left last night with a whole group of students."

"Her _boyfriend?"_ Arata cries. "Is he—"

"His name's Ken, Ken Kaneki, and he's—he reminds me of you," Yomo says. The tea's too hot. It scalds his lips. "In good ways." He sets the teacup down with a clatter. _It wasn't your fault. Hikari wasn't, at least._

_I'm sorry._

"But they're—"

Yomo launches into an explanation of the accusations against Arima, Ayato's screw-ups earlier in the year—he leaves out Uta walking in on him and Hinami—and finally, Touka and Ayato running away. "I think they want to help prove his innocence."

"They could be—that's dangerous!" Arata glares at Yomo. "Far more dangerous than— _I trusted you to keep them safe!"_

"And I fucked up!" Yomo shouts back, throwing his hands in the air. Shame beats at him with ghostly fists. He can imagine Hikari screaming at him. " _Find my babies!"_ "We have to find them before it's too late."

_Before they wind up as victims._

_Before they wind up doing something they can't come back from._

Arata glowers at him, fury embedded in his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Because I want your help," Yomo says. "You know people. I'm not asking that you get back involved with that world. You can give me the names."

"I never trafficked a human being in my life."

"But you might know people who did," Yomo insists. "If there's even a chance—I love them too, Arata. Touka's really grown up this year—she's less prone to fighting and her grades have improved. Ayato was really struggling, but he's been making great strides too—they're both involved in this play, they have good friends, they can have a future that's _different_. But they won't if we don't find them, and fast."

"I'd do anything to save them," Arata tells him, voice scraped and raw. " _Anything_."

"Good," says Yomo. _And this time, I won't be so caught up with my life that I let you go too far._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uncle Yomo to the rescue.


	36. Choose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Some calm before the storm.

_"Kanae."_

The curtains part with a metallic screech. Kanae lifts her head, her skull aching and heavy. Her ankle throbs, but it's a relatively simply break, according to the doctor. The hospital reeks of soap and rubber gloves.

Matsumae stares at her. Kanae winces. "If you're going to yell at me, I don't want to hear it."

"I'm not going to yell at you." Matsumae says. Dawn bites and claws its way through the brewing purple clouds outside. "Ui's talking to the police. They have questions for you."

Kanae folds her arms over her chest. "I'm not answering."

Matsumae regards her with a strange look in her eyes. A nurse patters by, giggling over something with a colleague. "Why did you jump?"

"So they could get away," says Kanae. _Find Rize, Shuu, and come home._

She didn't tell him that for Rize. She told him that for Kaneki, because until Kaneki finds Rize, Kanae doubts he'll ever find peace. And Kaneki is still Shuu's friend. _And_ her friend.

 _Hopefully they had some success at Nutcracker's_.

"Why?" asks Matsumae.

Kanae lifts her shoulders.

Matsumae sighs, pulling her purse onto her lap. Shadows hang under her eyes. "Everyone knows, Kanae."

Her stomach tenses. _Of course they do._ The paramedics said it last night when they carried her back to the hospital on that stretcher. " _Teenage girl…"_ She knew they'd find out. And still, she jumped. _So this is how Kanae dies._ "I don't care."

When she looked over that guardrail, she spotted the flashing, spinning lights of the police cars, just pinpricks. She could jump and they wouldn't hit her. As long as they saw her, at least. They came awfully close, though.

"Okay then." Matsumae bites her lip. The room lightens even more. "Mirumo's plane landed an hour ago. Furuta called him to tell him about the two of you running away."

"It wasn't just the two of us," Kanae snaps.

"I'm aware." She rolls her eyes. "I'm sure he's on his way."

 _Oh, fuck._ Kanae's not sure she's ready for that. Her heart starts to pound. Sweat prickles under her chin.

" _He's just a charity case," scoffed one of the housekeepers, and Kanae ran out into the garden at the Tsukiyama house, trying not to cry but knowing that she'd fail at that too, that she was the reason her brothers were dead, since they tried to protect her from that intruder. The sobs tore at her chest. She crouched under a rosebush and pricked her thumb._

 _What if he kicks me out? What if he and the school kick me out?_ she wonders.

_She felt a hand on her shoulder that day, and when she turned around, she saw Shuu for the first time, home from school and still in his uniform, and she couldn't cry because she couldn't breathe._

" _Please stop crying alone."_

 _Shuu won't let that happen,_ Kanae reassures herself.

A throat clears. Kanae looks up to see Ui staring down at her, his brow creased as if he's wondering why he has to deal with all the drama. "You're being discharged. The police have agreed to question you on campus as opposed to in the station."

Matsumae smiles at her, and it hits Kanae like a hoof to her chest: _you asked for that._

_You helped me._

The nurses insist on wheeling her out in chair. Matsumae carries her crutches. Kanae closes her eyes inside the car, Ui muttering something that sounds like some very inappropriate words as he fumbles to turn the key in the ignition. The car reeks of cigarette smoke. _Blech_. Her father used to smoke cigars. Those smelled much nicer, spicy and rich. Mirumo smokes the same brand, and when Kanae first arrived, she used to hide outside Mirumo's office, breathing in the scent.

 _I miss you, Daddy,_ she would think. _I'll make you proud. I'll be the son you wanted to carry on your name._

_I'll make you all proud. Nathanael, Arunolt, Emma. Dad._

_I doubt you'd be proud of me today, Dad,_ Kanae thinks as they speed under the same overpass she leaped off of last night.

_Be safe wherever you are, Shuu._

But maybe Dad _would_ be. Maybe Mom would be, Nathanael, Arunolt too. Maybe they'd be like Matsumae, hand on her shoulder like a guard, or like Nishiki, who screamed last night like an older brother would, or even like Ui, who, despite his set jaw, keeps checking on her in the rearview mirror.

They drive through the gates of Re Academy, and Matsumae helps her out of the car. She swings her crutches. They jab her armpits.

Mado's office is as unpleasant as ever, and several uniformed policemen stand there waiting for her. Matsumae and Ui sit on either side of her, both with their arm crossed.

"Where are they?" is the first question she's asked.

"I'm not telling," she responds.

"Did you all meet up with Ken Kaneki?"

Kanae crosses her arms. Mado's practically purple in the face. _Are you mad at Akira? Or worried for her? Or both?_

"Are they okay?" tries the second officer, younger and fatter. He sips a coffee. Damn, it smells good. Kanae's stomach rumbles.

"I don't know," Kanae answers honestly, stealing a glance at Mado. He clutches the windowsill, shoulders hunching.

"Are they together?"

"I don't know." And she doesn't. Anything could have happened in the hours that have passed.

"Aren't they your friends, Kanae?" tries the young one again. "Don't you want us to help them?"

"I want them to be helped, sure," Kanae says. "Not by you." _Because I can't trust you. Are you working with Dr. Kanou? Who even knows?_

Ui cringes.

Panic chomps down on her throat. She gasps. _Dr. Kanou—he'll know I know. Won't he figure Seidou told us?_

"What is it?" asks the cop, too eagerly.

"My ankle hurts," says Kanae.

"Your medical records list you as male, but the doctor who treated you last night says differently," chimes in the first officer, the mustached one Kanae hates because his voice grates her.

"I don't want to talk about that."

"Your counselor here at the school, Nimura Furuta, says you never mentioned—"

Ui's phone goes off. Kanae raises her eyebrows as he fumbles for it. "Oh, thank God," Ui whispers.

"What is it?" snaps Mado.

"Her guardian's here," Ui says, gesturing to Kanae. "He'll want to see her."

The officers exchange a look. Matsumae gets to her feet. "If he wants a few moments alone with Kanae, he can have those, can't he? Kanae's not under arrest."

"Not yet," says the first officer, folding his hands together. "But it's likely he—or she—will be."

 _Shit._ Hunger gnaws at her stomach, and she wishes she could fold herself into it.

"In that case, Kanae's definitely entitled to talk to her guardian," Matsumae says sharply.

"She is," confirms Mado, turning around to glare at the officers.

 _If they find Akira, she'll be arrested too, won't she be?_ Kanae realizes.

And then they've filed out of the room, and her ankle really throbs now, pain spasming through her calf. She winces, leaning down to massage it.

The door opens, and Mirumo strides in, bathed in the scent of those cigars. Kanae freezes. _How much did they tell you_?

"Kanae," he says wearily, and drops into the seat across from her. She inches back in her chair.

They stare at each other for a few moments. Kanae counts her heartbeats. _One. Two. Three._ This surely isn't how Mirumo planned to come back from his business trip, to the news that his beloved son's missing and his foster kid's being arrested.

Mirumo's face crumples. "Is Shuu—"

"He's safe," Kanae blurts out. "Or he should be—there's something he has to do, someone he has to help—I can't say more than that." She twists her hands in her lap. _Please don't hate me._ "Please trust him."

Mirumo nods, gulping. He leans across and takes her hand. "If he was in danger, you would tell me."

She nods. "But I don't know for sure." _Please believe me._ "They can't trust the police."

Mirumo snorts. "That, I understand."

Kanae peers up at him.

"I trust you," he says. "You've always looked out for Shuu. If you say he needs to do this—I believe you."

Something shatters. _You think that highly of me? You respect my opinion?_

She doesn't feel like a kid crying in a garden anymore. _You're treating me like an adult._

_I don't know if I deserve it._

"Kanae, they said you're—that you're not—" Mirumo's face grows red. "Is there something you should tell me?"

 _Here we go. I wish you were here for this, Shuu._ When she pictured telling Mirumo, Shuu was always there, holding her hand, supporting her. Kanae swallows. "I'm—Karren von Rosewald. I was born as Karren. Not Kanae. I—"

Mirumo exhales. "Okay."

"I'm sorry I lied."

He tilts his head to the side, and for a moment, he almost resembles his son. "Why did you lie?"

"My father—wanted a son to carry on his name—I heard him telling my mother how happy he was to have two sons—when they all died, I—" She hangs her head. "I used their names to make an acronym. Plus my own."

" _Oh_." Mirumo squeezes her hand, and courage sparks to lift her head. "Are you happy as Kanae now?"

She shakes her head. Tears spill out. "I want to be Karren."

"Okay, then," Mirumo says. " _Karren_."

 _Just like that? You're okay with it?_ She wipes at her eyes and he pulls his hands back.

"Did Shuu know?"

"Only recently," Karren admits. "A little over a month ago."

Mirumo nods, adjusting his tie. His suit looks wrinkled, Karren notices. "You didn't think I'd get rid of you, did you, Karren?"

"I—" She closes her mouth.

"Trust us a little more," Mirumo says, with a small smile.

 _Oh_. "Okay." She meets his eyes. _Should I do it?_

_Why not?_

"I love your son."

Mirumo snorts. "I know."

"He says he loves me," Karren says. "We've been dating the past month."

 _Charity case…_ She squeezes her eyes shut.

"Well," says Mirumo, and her heart hurtles ahead. "I couldn't be prouder to hear that."

Her eyes fly open, and the way he looks at her—he's sincere. He means it. Her news makes him _happy_.

There's a knock at the door, and when the police come back it, Mirumo tells them he's getting Karren a lawyer and she's not to answer another question until they arrive. Of course, she winds up down at the police station and they issue warrants for arrest for the other students. When Karren gets back to campus, though, Mirumo tells her he's booking a room at the nearest hotel and will wait until Shuu reappears.

The first person that runs up to her as she hobbles towards Dorm Block 20 is Chie Hori. "Kanae!"

"Are they—"

"They're okay," Chie reassures her. "Are you?"

"My ankle's busted," Karren responds. She remembers Mirumo's acceptance of her and guilt chafes at her. "Chie—I'm sorry I was so mean to you earlier this year."

"It's okay," Chie says, eyes running up and down her. "Rumor has it you're—not a guy."

"Rumors are correct," Karren says. "My name's Karren."

Chie giggles and holds out her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you, _Karren_."

Karren takes her hand. _Rest in peace, Dad, Nathanael, Arunolt, and Emma._

* * *

 _Meet at one am to evade Ui and his magic ears,_ texts Hide _._ Ui caught them trying to meet up the night before and was not happy. _Kanae will join us. Except Kanae's now Karren but you can ask her about that at the meeting because until then she needs to sleep._

"Huh?" Mutsuki frowns at his phone. _Okay then._ At least Kanae— _Karren's_ —okay. And Mutsuki still has time. He scuttles around the room.

The door opens behind him. "Hey," says Urie. "You get Hide's message?"

"Yup." Mutsuki nods, and Urie freezes, gaping at the room. Fake candles line the desks. The curtains are pulled shut, and everything smells like cinnamon. "Um—Shirazu said he'd stay away until nine or so. He and Saiko are still working on some of their scenes for the play." Not that there's even a point. Or maybe there will be, if everyone can come back soon.

Even in the dim light, Mutsuki can see Urie's face reddening. "How long have you been planning this?"

Mutsuki stands in the middle of the room, knotting his light sweater in his hands. "I mean—"

"I didn't know you were such a romantic," Urie teases. "Fake candles?"

"They're Saiko's, and I'm not. You are, though."

Urie's eyes widen, and he drops his bag to the floor. He reaches for Mutsuki, pulling him close and kissing him. As always, he waits, lips softly brushing his, for Mutsuki to open his mouth before he even attempts to go deeper.

 _Is this what it's like?_ Mutsuki wonders. _To do it with someone you love?_ His stomach knots, but not in a painful way. Warmth seeps through his abdomen, his legs. He melts against Urie.

"Are you sure?" Urie rasps. "It hasn't been—very long, Tooru." He lifts Mutsuki's hand, resting their palms together. "I don't want you to have any regrets."

 _Tooru_. Mutsuki presses his head into Urie's shoulder. "I don't want you to have any either." _I want to move forward. With you, if possible, but either way, I want to move forward._

"I would never regret you," Urie tells him, voice a whisper against Mutsuki's ear. He wraps one arm around Mutsuki's waist, and with their chests pressed together, hearts beating in rhythm, it seems almost like they're dancing, but the world's still around them, waiting.

Tears spring to his eyes. "I love you."

Urie's chest heaves, like he's struggling to breathe, struggling not to cry.

 _It means that much to you? That I love you?_ Mutsuki's eyes fly open, and he stands on tiptoe, taking Urie's mouth in his.

Urie carries Mutsuki to the bed, picking up a condom from the desk on the way. Mutsuki's heart pounds, but there's no fear. Every nerve in his body feels awake, alive in a way he's never felt before, and there's no pain.

Urie looks down at him, purple hair covering his eyes, and Mutsuki reaches up to brush it away. _I choose you._

_And for some crazy reason, you choose me. You know I'm sick, and you still love me. You want to help me but you don't try to force me._

_You're not perfect, but I love you._

"You're the first person I've ever wanted to do this with," Mutsuki manages, pillow soft against the back of his head.

Urie closes his eyes. "Tell me whether I'm hurting you, or if you want to stop, okay?"

Mutsuki nods. Urie sits back and pulls off his shirt. Then Urie reaches out, looking at Mutsuki for any sign of a _no._

 _I want to do this._ Mutsuki takes Urie's hand and puts it on the zipper of his pants. Urie pulls it down, helps Mutsuki out of them, and Mutsuki pushes Urie's jeans down.

Urie moves towards Mutuski's shirt, and Mutsuki bites his lip. A flicker of fear burns. Urie pulls his hands back. Mutsuki turns his head away as he removes his shirt, binder still on, but scars visible.

 _Do you think they're disgusting?_ Mutsuki trembles.

Urie leans over and traces the scars winding up Mutsuki's shoulders. He knows that Mutsuki's father gave these to him, and still, he embraces Mutsuki like he's everything Urie wants. Mutsuki turns back to face him, lips plastered together, breathing hitched.

And then their underwears are off, and fear creeps in again. Mutsuki bites the insides of his cheeks. A flash of him crying into this very blanket, of a cat, of a far angrier face surges.

_Do you think I'm grotesque?_

Urie's lips meet his. "You're perfect."

 _Perfect_. The word pours into Mutsuki's lungs, drowning him. He coughs, and then he's crying again—just a bit. _Dammit_.

Urie wipes Mutsuki's eyes for him. "We can stop."

Mutsuki shakes his head and angles his hips up, wrapping his legs around Urie's. "I want you." Tears fade away. His stomach burns.

 _This is my choice. And it's a choice no one gets to make for me_.

"Okay," Urie says, tensing. Mutsuki plants his lips on Urie's pecs. His skin tastes intoxicating, and Mutsuki wants more. He lets out a gasp as Urie runs his hands down Mutsuki's sides, over his binder and over the soft skin between his ribs and then his hipbones.

"Hold on," Mutsuki manages, breaking away.

"Yeah?" Urie's already sweating and they haven't even started.

Mutsuki sits up, fingers groping for his binder. He grabs it and tears it off.

Urie hesitates. "But you said—"

"I changed my mind." _Now you see me. All of me._

_I don't want to hold anything back. Not from you._

Urie doesn't even need to say he's perfect again. His eyes say it all.

 _I don't have to figure it all out,_ Mutsuki realizes. _I don't know what I want to be—in terms of anything._

No matter what, though, he knows Urie wants to listen, really wants to know him. And he won't abandon him.

It only hurts a bit at the beginning, and then it's not painful but something else, something completely different that eclipses all of Mutsuki's memories, light bleeding over the dark. Urie moves too fast and Mutsuki has to tell him to slow down, palms against his chest, and Urie listens. Urie calls him _Tooru_ and he calls him _Kuki_ , and their bodies meld together, and Mutsuki doesn't feel like two people but whole, and full, and loved.


	37. Captured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This chapter contains some underage drinking.

It's Monday. _Monday._ And still no break in the case. Hide scowls at his phone. Juuzou's now planning to revisit Nutcracker's and probably get everyone killed.

"Anything?" calls Karren, wobbling out from her room on crutches.

"Nope," says Hide. "Another bust." And he has an appointment with Furuta after school. _Someone stab out my eyes._ Anything to avoid that clown.

"Shuu contacted Mirumo last night to tell him he's okay," says Karren. God, Hide's still not used to seeing her as a girl, and a very pretty girl at that. "He left a message."

"Good." Hide blows out his breath.

The school day's going to be a bust, too. Hide hates having to sit in the cafeteria with all the other dorms looking at them, whispering about them. One of the boys from west campus calls Karren a _freak_ at breakfast and Kurona throws her cereal in his face.

"Nice one," says Saiko, holding up her palm for a high-five.

Yoriko leans against Takeomi's shoulder, eating sausages off his fork. Dorm Block 11 still talks to them. Which is good, because Itori gives them a mouthful. "How are we supposed to do a play if almost all of my cast is gone?"

"I think they have other things on their mind," mumbles Urie.

"What was that, Kuki?"

"Nothing."

"You all still have to practice," Itori says, throwing her red hair over her shoulder. "Because I believe they'll be back."

"Why?" asks Aura. "What makes you believe that?"

"I have faith in them," Itori says.

"So you think they're innocent?" Karren asks.

"I said I had faith in them," Itori smiles, and Hide can tell they're not getting another word out of her. But that's a _yes_. "And you, my dear, may be a girl, but I am all for female bishops so, you're still the Bishop of Digne and you have to sing today."

Drama's the most enjoyable class of the day. _Who would've thought?_ Hide trudges off to his appointment with Furuta, worrying his lip. Hirako's supposed to be taking on some of Furuta's load, but Hide's still assigned to the rotten Fruit.

He doesn't trust the counselor, now principal. Not one bit. No counselor can suck this badly at their job and still stay on staff unless there's something else going on. His replacing Matsuri only speeds up this uneasy twisting sensation inside of Hide.

He wishes he could talk to Marude, but Marude's meeting with the police again. For all Marude's faults, he seems clear-cut to Hide.

 _I joined this school to protect you, Kaneki. I'm doing a pretty sucky job at it, but I won't let you down. I promise_.

He begged his parents when he found out. _Send me with Kaneki._ He was afraid Kaneki would flounder in such a place.

No, that's not entirely true. He was afraid for himself. _You're my best friend._ And Hide, for all the things he has back home—none of that security has ever made him feel secure. Not his intelligence, not his parents, not his house or his room with all its sports posters. But at school, he had a friend, a quiet boy who smiled and said he'd like to be Hide's friend.

He knew all along Kaneki was protecting Touka as the Blue Skirt girl. _I just wish you would let someone protect you for a change._

But Kaneki would never let that happen, and Hide's the only one who can get close to succeeding.

Furuta's positively manic during their session, and Hide's able to fake his sorrow over Kaneki's betrayal and his loneliness over everyone leaving his dorm, and then he's out.

Except Hide returns after dinner to hide behind the bush under the window to Furuta's office. _I'm not buying this._ He huddles under Furuta's window, waiting while Aura visits Furuta and talks about wanting to live up to his aunt's reputation, and then while Furuta calls Ui in and Ui tries to encourage him.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," Ui tells him. "We both have new roles and—"

_Don't you think Arima's innocent?_

' _Course he does. He just also doesn't suspect Furuta and actually has faith in this school._

Furuta thanks Ui, and Ui leaves. Hide gets to his knees, the damp grass soaking through his jeans. His ass is numb and brambles stab his face. "Ouch!"

He watches as Ui wraps his arms around Hairu, who says something about them both needing to go back to their dorms. Ui kisses her, and Hide's jaw drops. If things weren't so serious, he'd send around a Snapchat.

"It's Souta," he hears behind him, from the office.

_Who the hell is Souta?_

"Yes, Donato, Tokage's still happy so long as I keep putting Washuu money in his account." Furuta cackles. "Isn't it great? He's so happy with money he doesn't give a fuck about his freedom."

_Donato… Washuu… are you robbing Matsuri?_

_No_.

 _How_ were _you able to get this ridiculous job and keep it?_

"Evidence against him is weak," Furuta confirms. "He'll get off in court and he knows it." He sniggers again. "I mean, if that's what he likes… _yolo."_

A twig snaps. Hide freezes. Ahead of him, he sees Yomo heading away from the art building, towards staff housing.

"I'm off tonight," Furuta says, yawning. " _Ttyl."_

_Are you seventeen or am I?_

Hide stays crouched until the sound of Furuta's boots crunching against the pavement fades away. His neck throbs and his shoulders shake as he extracts himself from the bush. _I have a lead,_ he texts Shirazu. _Tell Kaneki we're gonna call._ And then he deletes the text, as they've been doing.

He barely takes a step before he hears a voice call out to him. "Nagachika, the hell are you doing?"

Hide freezes, his pant leg still hooked against one of the branches. "Um—"

Uta stares at him, the wind blowing his hair against his pallid skin. The stars glints above them.

"Testing out the place for a lucky girl," Hide comes up with, and Uta's face blanches under the streetlights. _I guess you getting caught did work out for my good, Ayato and Hinami._

"Get out of here," Uta orders.

"Yes, sir." Hide lowers his head and scurries off. _Furuta has to be working with Kanou_. _Now to catch them together…_

He glances over his shoulder, and finds Uta watching him.

* * *

"I knew there was something up with that piece of shit," snarls Nishiki, gulping a piña colada. They're all gathered in Kaneki's hotel room, even Naki and Miza. Kaneki's been trying to help Naki read, which Akira thinks is sweet. She holds Amon's hand as they sit on the floor against the window.

"Nishiki, if you get drunk, I will leave you to drown in your own vomit," Touka warns.

"But then Kimi will be sad," sings Nishiki.

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Nobody is fucking anyone," Amon snaps.

"Incorrect," says Tsukiyama.

Nishiki laughs.

"Only Seidou and Juuzou here are not currently fucking someone," Tsukiyama adds. "I believe the temptation was too much even for you, Inspector Javert."

Amon's face colors as if he's had too many to drink, even though he's just having a soda. Seidou cringes and sinks back against the pillows at the head of the bed. Akira snorts and sips her mimosa. Her mom used to like these.

"It's okay, Seidou," says Juuzou, sprawled on his back on the floor and staring up at the ceiling.

"I remember Furuta," Miza says. "He was a few years younger than me. He was always—jolly. And cruel. Remember what he did to that girl he dated, Naki? What was her name—Ami?"

Naki grunts.

"What did he do?" questions Kaneki.

"He dumped her at a dance and told her she was fat and he was only dating her to see what she was like in bed," Miza reports.

"Ew," says Ayato, while Hinami covers her mouth in horror.

"He said he had a fiancée named Ami," says Seidou. "Who died."

"That's a lie," Miza says with a snort.

"Okay, so he's a sleaze," Akira says. "So he and Dr. Kanou are working together. Anyone else?" _Is everyone at Re really a sadistic bastard?_

"Not that Hide knows of," says Kaneki.

Tsukiyama sighs, rubbing his face. Circles surround his eyes, and he looks pale. Kanae—or Karren's—capture is clearly taking its toll on him.

 _On all of us._ Acid shoots up Akira's throat. She sets the mimosa aside. Alcohol is not going to help.

"Are we going back to Nutcracker's again tonight or no?" asks Juuzou, covering his eyes with his forearms. "Because we don't know if the police took her away, and I don't know what else to do."

Akira cringes. She doesn't think it's a good idea. _But we're out of other options._ And Amon almost came unglued last night thinking about Donato. Hopefully Big Madam is rotting in jail.

_But if she isn't, she might be our only chance to find out when this auction is._

"I think it'd be way easier to get Furuta to talk than Kanou," Seidou puts forth, setting aside his beer and pulling his white hair back from his face. Akira still isn't used to the sight of him as Einstein.

"So, we try to trick him into a confession," says Ayato.

"So we go back?" Touka asks.

"No," says Ayato. "Why not convince him to come to us?"

Kaneki nods. "It could work."

"He's slippery enough," says Seidou, bouncing his leg.

"Whatever you kids wanna do," says Naki. "We'll help."

A lump grows in Akira's throat. Who would have guessed an unstable criminal who can't really read much is the only adult she feels like she can trust right now?

They try to hash out a plan, but it's not coming together. Akira grits her teeth. Her esophagus burns. Outside, more rain falls.

Hinami falls asleep around four in the morning, and Ayato carries her back to their room. Tsukiyama buys Naki and Miza a room. He's now sharing with Nishiki, since Kanae—Karren's—gone. Seidou and Juuzou haven't killed each other yet despite now sharing a room alone together.

Akira's too tired and too scared for sex. She falls asleep with her head on Amon's shoulder, still clad in her jeans and rumpled blouse.

When she wakes, it's to the room's phone blaring. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, Akira sits up. Amon staggers over to grab it. The sun glows soft and silvery outside, as if it, too, is just waking up.

 _6:53,_ reads her watch.

"Hello?" Amon asks, and then he whirls around, pointing at Akira and pointing at her shoes. "How? Okay, okay!"

Akira scrambles to her feet. "What—"

"That was Tsukiyama! The police are here!"

Akira shoves her feet in her shoes. The back digs into her heel and she swears. "How does he—"

"I guess he woke up because Nishiki drank too much and he went downstairs to get medicine and saw them in the lobby—he and Nishiki are calling everyone and then running for it—he said to meet by the back entrance by the pool—"

Akira leaves the hotel room card and her phone. She pushes the door open, peering into the hallway.

 _No one yet._ Kaneki and Touka emerge, followed by Ayato and Hinami.

"Take the east stairs," Amon suggests. "We'll take the west ones."

"What about Seidou?" Akira hisses.

Amon shakes his head. "He's rooming with Juuzou. Juuzou will get them out of here."

Akira's heart pounds. The drink she had last night sears her stomach and she almost doubles over. Naki and Miza appear, Naki mumbling under his breath and Miza with a look of fury on her face.

The elevators ding, and uniformed police pour into the hallway just as they reach the staircase. _Shit!_

She hears shouting that's definitely Tsukiyama. _It's over for them._

Amon slams open the door to the stairwell, and they rush down. _Why the seventh floor?_

"Hey!" bellows a cop behind them.

"Shit!" shouts Amon, grabbing Akira as they barrel down the stairs. Miza pants. Naki hauls her after him.

Footsteps echo behind them. Naki trips but gets back to his feet. Akira's hip smacks the railing and she gasps. Pain explodes in the bone. Amon pulls her along, her feet take the stairs two at a time, but she doesn't know—it won't be enough—all the cops have to do is call the desk—

_Four more stories._

_Kaneki, Touka, Ayato, Hinami, are you trapped too? What about Seidou and Juuzou?_

Naki and Miza speed ahead of them, and Akira doesn't even mind. Amon stumbles and she yanks on his arm, righting him.

_Two more._

_Come on, come on!_ Akira's lungs burn. The cops' feet clatter above them, still at least two stories behind. _If no one's waiting—we can—_

_One more._

Amon leaps the rest of the way and Akira copies. Naki and Miza thrust open the door, racing out into the lobby. Akira charges after Amon.

To see a group of officers ready and waiting.

"Here!" Amon yanks her down the hallway towards the gym. Naki and Miza veer off in another direction, and Akira hears yelling.

"Dead end!"

_Dammit!_

"Go!" Miza yells at them, and Akira knows she and Naki as good as caught.

"Stop! Police!"

 _How is this my life_? Akira almost feels like she's watching a movie, watching a blond girl run with her hand-in-hand strapping tall, dark, and handsome boyfriend through a hotel's fitness center filled with grandpas and models working out in spandex and that girl, that girl— _how is she me?_

 _I can't let things slide the way they've been going._ Akira's lungs burn.

"Stop or we—"

Someone bursts out from another hallway, tackling Amon to the ground. Akira whirls around, her hand cold and empty.

"Get on the ground!" shouts the officer.

_Really? Is this necessary?_

She can see the exit to the pool area on her left, the sun glinting golden on the water. On the right, officers fly at her.

And a flash of white cuts across her vision from the pool area. _Seidou? Juuzou?_

Akira puts her hands in the air. The officer who tackled Amon digs his knee into his back, handcuffing him.

"Get on your knees!"

Akira sinks, her chest heaving. _They're going to get away, at least._ She has to believe that was them.

"Lie down!"

Akira presses her face against the glistening tiles. Her arms are yanked back, twisted. Handcuffs groan and click as they fasten over her wrists. Strange hands pat her down.

When they pull her to her knees, she sees Amon with a bloodied lip and a dazed look. He shakes his head at her.

_I'm sorry._

_Not your fault._ She gives him a trembling smile.

She's hoisted to her feet and marched towards the hotel lobby, hip still throbbing. Naki and Miza both shake their heads when they see Akira and Amon. Fitness workers gape at the sight of such a dramatic arrest. Akira ducks her head, hair falling to cover her face. Humiliation scratches her. She wishes her stomach would dissolve itself.

_I don't regret it._

_But it should never have come to this._

When they're dragged into the lobby, she sees Tsukiyama and Nishiki both waiting in handcuffs, Tsukiyama looking almost amused and Nishiki glowering.

And then she sees her father, his hair greasy and unkempt, shirt untucked, and coat billowing around him like a bat as he hurries over. And then he freezes as if he can't quite comprehend the sight of his daughter under arrest.

Akira drops her head again as they escort her past him.

* * *

"Come on!" Kaneki tears across the pool area, Touka on his heels. A shout echoes.

_They've spotted us._

Ahead, she sees Juuzou and Seidou leaping the fence and racing down the street. _We can make it_. _The cops are too slow—_

Hinami cries out. Touka whirls around. A hotel employee, dressed all in black, throws a black hose at Hinami, smacking her in the face. She tumbles to the ground.

"Hinami!" Touka charges back.

"No!" Ayato follows.

Touka reaches Hinami first, hauling her up. Blood streams from her nose. The employee races at them like he's some kind of hero. Touka tenses. Her fist flies out, clocking him in the nose.

Kaneki and Ayato rush to help them.

"Go, you idiots!" Touka screams at them, pulling Hinami with her. _I'm not leaving you._

Ayato grabs Kaneki's arm, saying something to him. Something in his face breaks.

And Touka knows she and Hinami won't make it, but they can. The two people she trusts most in the world.

 _Go_.

Ayato drags Kaneki after him. They climb the fence and dart across the street. Touka makes it to the fence just as hands descend to yank Hinami away from her. Someone grabs Touka by her leg and throws her to the ground. Her head smacks the pavement. She sees stars. Her teeth clamp down on her tongue. Blood fills her mouth, dribbles out.

The cops buzz around her, some of them leaping the fence, but out in the maze of the streets crawling with morning traffic, Touka doubts they'll find them.

_They got away._

_I trust them_.

_Kaneki, Ayato, Seidou, Juuzou—you can do it._

Looking up at the sun that simmers the damp air, Touka sees colors. A rainbow.

 _It's beautiful,_ she thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for reading! I wanted to say that, as this story will be concluding in a little over a week (well, sort of—there are a couple of one-shots set in this universe that I will be posting when it finishes), I have started posting another Tokyo Ghoul fic called "The (Mis)Adventures of Goat" set in canon-verse on the days when I am not updating this fic. It's definitely different than this story (kindasortamaybealittlebit crack), so it's probably not everyone's cup of tea, but if you want to check it out, feel free!


	38. Quitting is Not an Option

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

_Take an eye for an eye_   
_Turn your heart into stone_   
_This is all I have lived for_   
_This is all I have known_

_"Valjean's Soliloquy," Les Misérables_

* * *

The news comes in the biology lab as Yomo scrubs pig's guts off his fingers. It comes from Uta.

"Shit," Yomo breathes.

Uta arches his eyebrows, piercings glinting in the sunlight that filters through the window. "You going to call Arata?

The water runs cold down his fingers. Yomo switches off the faucet. "So you know about that?"

"You're more predictable than you might think, Renji." Uta leans back against the black countertop. "Is he actually helping you?"

"He's been trying," says Yomo.

Uta nods. "I'll leave you to it." He lingers by the doorway, but Yomo can't talk. He needs to call Arata. The phone's already in his hands.

Uta disappears as Yomo dials. "Arata?"

"Is there news?" he demands right away, anxiety clambering with dread in his voice. "Are they—"

This terror— _you shouldn't have to live cut off from them. Hikari wouldn't want this_. Yomo draws in his breath. "They found Touka. And most of the students. Ayato's still on the run with three other boys."

Arata curses, and then thanks God. "Is she—"

"Uta says she's not hurt, but they've all been arrested. I'll get down to the station as soon as I can." Providing Furuta gives him some free time. Which he might not, just to prove that he has power over Yomo. He grits his teeth. Marude would be a far better acting principal.

"Are they being charged with anything?" Arata asks.

"I don't know. Maybe helping fugitives, but that's going to be difficult to prove. They should be fine." Yomo thinks. He hopes.

Because he knows what Arata's really asking: _they're not going to be cursed with a record like mine, are they?_

It's a cruel irony. Yomo stares at the gutted carcass of a fetal pig, never given the chance to draw even one breath. Because he has the feeling that if Touka or Ayato were to act like Arata in any way, Hikari would be more than proud. Even to Yomo, Arata's one of the kindest, most loving people he knows. _Even when I don't deserve it._

But fear seeped into Arata after Hikari bled out, and in an effort to keep himself from bleeding, to keep everyone else breathing, he condemned himself.

_I don't want to condemn you anymore._

"Arata," Yomo vows. "Once we find Ayato—and we will—I'll get you to see them. I promise."

Arata's quiet. His breath hitches. "I don't know if they'd want to."

"I'll give them the choice," Yomo says, heart pounding. He pushes the pig back into the refrigerator, phone clamped between his shoulder and ear. "They deserve that much." His voice breaks. "I'll talk to the court—they're good kids, Arata. You should be proud of them."

"I love them," Arata says. "I love them so much. They could be guilty and I'd still love them—I couldn't give up on them."

Yomo marches for the door of his classroom, grabbing his coat off the hook. "I don't think they've given up on you." _Even as much as Ayato tries to insist he has._

 _I love them, too, Hikari,_ Yomo thinks. _Guilt or innocence irrelevant. If I had kids, I can't imagine them being different than Touka and Ayato._

* * *

"How deep of shit are we in?" Nishiki hisses as they ride over to the police station. He, Tsukiyama, and Hinami are crammed into the backseat of one car; Amon, Akira, and Touka are in the other, Amon with a nasty bruise swelling on his forehead and Akira with a cut lip.

Tsukiyama shrugs, his hands going numb. "It's not good."

"I feel so bad for Miza and Naki," Hinami whispers.

The sight of Hinami with a bloody nose and in handcuffs sours Tsukiyama's stomach. She deserves it least of all. "To be fair, _mademoiselle_ , they _are_ criminals."

"Yeah, I used to be too," Nishiki says, glaring out the window.

"I know they're not exactly altruistic people," Hinami says. "But they care enough about Kaneki to help us. And because of that, they're—friends. They're good people too, in a way. Not just criminals. And now they have to suffer because of us."

The officer stops short after taking a corner and Tsukiyama slams into the window. _Really?_

But it's true. Tsukiyama thinks of Karren. _I'll get to see you again at the end of today. Hopefully_. "As our friends who wrote the play we're performing, or _were_ performing, once said, to love another person is to see the face of God."

"What does that even mean?" groans Nishiki.

"That loving someone else is our way to redemption," says Hinami. "Right?"

" _Oui_." Tsukiyama winks, but his heart feels like it's three sizes too large. _You taught me that, Karren. You and Kaneki both_.

Before this year, he lived entirely for himself, tearing through lover after lover, excelling at school, eating the best foods and still coming up dry, feeling as if his insides were just wobbling around in the empty space between his skin. When he stopped eating, stopped trying, he just wanted something to _change_ , wanted something to fill him up, satisfy him.

Karren was there all along, but unable to truly be herself. Still, if he'd opened his eyes, really looked at her—even as Kanae—he might have had more time.

_It's okay. We have tonight. And tomorrow._

_The future's wide open._

They're hauled into the police station and processed. Tsukiyama grins for his mug shot, which pisses off the person taking it to no end and sends a thrill shuddering through Tsukiyama's stomach. And then the questions start in a dull, windowless room—really a shame on such a bright spring day. He answers them all in either French, Italian, or German, until they eventually give up and escort him to a holding cell with a concrete floor, no furniture, and metal bars like in the movies. Other prisoners jeer and Tsukiyama winks at them.

Amon and Nishiki sit there already, Nishiki leaning his head back against the bars and Amon huddled with his knees drawn against his chest. In his fist, he clutches his cross.

"I guess they put the girls in a special ladies cell?" Tsukiyama asks.

Nishiki shrugs. "That'd be my assumption."

"I'm in _jail_ ," Amon whispers.

"Allowed to get the perspective Javert could never get," Tsukiyama comments. _Despite being born in one._

"Shut up."

Tsukiyama winces. _What would Karren want?_

 _For me to become my best self,_ he knows. He remembers lying in his bed, his dad talking with a doctor about hooking him up to a feeding tube, and Kanae leaning over him, hair dangling from his face while she told him a fairy tale in German.

 _What would Kaneki do_? He sighs and drops down next to Amon, patting his shoulder. "There, there."

"You are terrible at comforting people," Nishiki comments.

"I don't see you trying," Tsukiyama shoots back.

"Thanks," Amon whispers. "I just—I wanted to live a good life. Unlike the one I lived as a kid."

"Is that why you glommed onto Mado?" Tsukiyama wonders. "Because dear God, I think you need a new definition of a good life."

"Hedonism isn't my thing," he snaps.

"Not like that." Tsukiyama rolls his eyes. _It wasn't good for me, either. Who knew?_

 _Karren knew_.

"You love Akira, don't you?" Tsukiyama tries. "And Kaneki—Seidou—even me." He winks.

Nishiki groans.

"Well, you care about us at the very least. You will be fine, _Monsieur_ Amon." _I literally do not know what else to say._

"Hey," comes a voice. Tsukiyama cranes his neck to see an officer standing there. "All of you. You're coming with me."

"Where?" asks Nishiki, getting to his feet. Tsukiyama leaps up.

"You've all been bailed out," says the officer, nose wrinkling.

"By the school? They have funds to spare?" wonders Nishiki.

Tsukiyama doubts it, but he bites his lip until they're marched past the other prisoners who catcall all three of them, but especially him. When they emerge in the waiting area they find Akira, Hinami, and Touka standing with Kureo Mado scowling, and his own father beaming.

" _Dad!"_ To hell with dignity. Tsukiyama throws himself into his arms.

"Thank you," Mado says stiffly.

"Welcome," Dad manages, his arms squeezing around Tsukiyama. "It's okay, Shuu."

"Ui's here to drive Kirishima, Fueguchi, and Nishio back to school," Mado says. "Amon, Akira, I'd like to take the two of you. Mirumo—"

"I'll have Shuu back there within the hour," Dad promises, wrapping an arm around Tsukiyama's shoulders as he turns him away from his chest. "Let's go."

"You bailed us out?" Tsukiyama blurts out the moment they're seated in his dad's limo.

"Of course. I didn't let Karren rot in jail; I wasn't about to let my son, or his friends."

"So you know about Karren," Tsukiyama says, his heart pounding as he studies his father's face. _Are you mad? You're not mad, right? You're okay with it_? _You understand why she felt she had to be Kanae?_ "How—is she doing?"

"I know you're in sporadic contact with her and some of your other friends," Dad says, cocking his head. "So cut the bull, Shuu. Your photographer friend is good at hacking."

Shuu drops his head towards his chest. "But Karren's ankle is—really okay?"

"She's on crutches for six weeks, but yes. Although Matsumae might kill both of you." Dad leans back against the window. "Tell me, Shuu, how long were you going to wait to tell me about Karren?"

"It was her place to tell you," Tsukiyama blurts out. "She'd lived as Kanae for years—it was up to her—"

"I don't mean about being Karren, Shuu. I'm talking about the two of you."

 _Oh_. For the first time in years, Tsukiyama flushes. "I'm in love with her."

"I'm glad to hear it," says Dad, his face relaxing into a smile. "You're good for each other."

Tsukiyama can't control himself. He launches himself at his father, wrapping his arms around him again. Dad grunts and then holds him, stroking his hair like he used to when thunder rumbled outside late at night, and Tsukiyama asked about his mother. His father's heart beats against his ears now just as it did back then, and the rhythm soothes Tsukiyama.

"Kaneki's innocent, Dad," Tsukiyama insists. "I can't—let him accept a life that's a lie." Karren's words, not his, and he doesn't even have to see his father's face to know that his father can hear Karren in them.

"I believe you," Dad tells him.

* * *

The moment Mado said he wanted to talk to both of them is the moment any hope Amon had dissolved into terror. Akira blanches, glancing at Amon.

As Mado escorts them to his small sedan, Akira reaches out and takes Amon's hand. He clings to her. Mado's lip curls when he sees. The implication of having found them at a hotel is apparently not lost on Mado.

 _Once upon a time, you might have been pleased we're dating,_ Amon thinks. _Now I'm the opposite of the kind of man you'd want for your daughter._

But Akira still clutches him, and he holds her fingers between his own.

Mado gets into the car, Akira and Amon sliding into the backseat. Before he even starts it, Mado turns to them. _"Why?"_

Akira gapes at him, unable to speak. Amon wracks his brain, trying to grope for any kind of explanation, but he has none. None but the truth. "Kaneki's innocent, and we wanted to help him."

"If he's innocent, then help _us_ help him," Mado shoots back. "I know the two of you refused to talk in there. I know—"

"But you won't help him, will you?" Akira demands.

He blinks at his daughter, the one who so resembles both him and his late wife.

"You hate everyone at this school—you treat them all like they're Mom's murderers, but they're not—they're just—kids." Akira's voice breaks, and Amon thinks of Seidou. _Stay safe_. "You keep telling us to move forward, think of our own lives, but you can't even do that, can you? You're caught in the past. You're not thinking of your own life; you're thinking of Mom's. And in trying to honor her memory you've trampled on everything she stood for!"

Mado gapes at his daughter, a gaunt, ghoulish look to his face. Amon's heart pounds. _She's right, isn't she?_

"I work," Mado says, voice so tight it could snap at any second. "To _prevent_ tragedies like your—"

"No, you're creating them!" Akira shakes her head. "Daddy, you're my hero—you're my—can't you see, can't you see—they're all just—we're all just—people—maybe we made bad decisions, but—labeling and treating them like there's no hope—you can't even do that consistently—"

"Are you calling me a hypocrite?"

Akira doubles over.

"I think she is," Amon says, Akira's words giving him strength. "And I am."

Mado glares at him.

"I'm so grateful," Amon tells him, something cool and calm sliding into him. "For everything you're done for me, Mado, and you've done a lot, and I can never repay you. But I didn't deserve your help any more than some of these other—"

"You made better _choices_ , Amon, and it's our choices that matter! Every person must choose his or her own way, and—"

"I made better choices because _you_ gave me the opportunity to!" Amon shouts. "Don't you think others have looked to you for that, and you've said _no?"_

"I don't care about rules," Akira says against her fingers. "I don't care about the law. I care about the spirit far more than the letter, Daddy—don't you remember those debates you used to have with Kusaba? I want to protect people. And if I have to go outside the law to do it, so long as I'm not hurting anyone, I—" Her voice catches. "I can't—I don't regret it."

"I don't either," says Amon. "I don't regret all the help you gave me—and I don't regret running away to help them." _Even if I did end up in jail._

_Because, Donato, you are not who I want to be._

_But Mado, you aren't either. You're both a part of shaping who I am—but I can't_ _—_

A line of Kaneki's from the play echo in his mind. _A new story must begin…_

"They're our _friends_ ," Akira mutters.

 _It begins right here._ Amon wraps his arm around Akira's shoulders. He glances at Mado. _You could comfort her, too. You'd just have to reach over the seat._

But he sits, looking stricken. "Did you convince her of—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Dad, do you really think any guy could convince me of anything unless I genuinely believed it?" Akira cries out. "Yes, Amon and I are in love; we're dating, okay? But I made my own choices."

_Please don't shoot me._

Mado leaps out of the car. "Where's he going?" Amon asks.

Akira shakes her head.

He paces up and down the parking lot for ten minutes before sliding back into the car.

The drive to Re Academy is silent.

* * *

"We're so screwed," mutters Seidou, holding his head in his hands as he sits on a public park bench.

 _You abandoned me,_ Kaneki thinks as the sun shines down, his black hoodie absorbing the heat. Sweats breaks out across his back. _Arima, you have to have heard that it's all going to shit—that we're all on the run—and you haven't even attempted to do_ anything _as far as I know._

 _Did we all mean nothing to you in the end?_ He leans forward, gripping his skull with one hand and cracking the fingers of the other. _I wish Yamori had sold me—had torn me to bits—that way I wouldn't be failing everyone like this—_

"Hey!" Ayato grabs his shoulders, lips curled back in a sneer. "Look at me, Kaneki." Hair dangles over his face. "People are counting on you, okay? On us, and on you. We all did this to help you, but we made our own decisions and—Rize, Naki, my sister—they're all counting on us. We can't give up. Not now."

"What can we even do?" Kaneki erupts. "Furuta and Dr. Kanou—they've _won_. We don't have Naki or Miza anymore—we don't have Shachi—everyone will be watched—they'll be in danger—" _I should never have let—_

"Would you stop thinking you can control us?" Juuzou drawls, lifting his hands and letting ants run over his fingers. He lowers them to the ground, letting the bugs scamper back into the grass. "I left because I wanted to, okay?"

_You did?_

"We still have Nutcracker's," Juuzou says. "A terrible option, but an option. And we still have people at the school. If you think Mutsuki, Urie, Shirazu, and Yonebayashi are content twiddling their thumbs, I don't know what you've been smoking."

"Call Hide," suggests Seidou. "Tell him we need help. If he can get into Furuta's office, he might find out when the auction is."

"I'm not risking him," Kaneki shoots back.

"You are the most infuriatingly stubborn person I have ever met in my entire life," Ayato informs him, turning away to kick a rock into a tree. "She's _my_ sister! And Hinami's _my_ girlfriend!"

"Text him," Seidou whispers. "Please. Just ask."

Guilt presses in on Kaneki from all sides. He pulls out his phone and taps out the message. When he presses send, he wants to punish himself.

"For God's sake," says Juuzou, sitting up and staring at him with grass tangled in his white hair. "Do you really not get that you're worth something to Hide, Touka, and hell, to all of us? We. Want. To. Help. You."

"And," says Seidou as a bird chirps above. "We want to help ourselves."

"I don't mind suffering," Kaneki whispers. "I just don't want—others to suffer because of me." Not Touka. Not Rize. Not Juuzou or Ayato or Seidou.

"Kaneki," says Ayato. "I'm going to say this because maybe you'll actually believe me, but all of us are doing this because _we_ think it's worth it, to save Rize, and to save you."

"You gave me candy," says Juuzou.

"You forgave me for something unforgivable," Ayato says, kneeling on the ground in front of the bench.

"You don't hate me for being the real guilty one," Seidou adds.

His phone buzzes.

 _Leave it to me,_ Hide says. _I won't let you down._

* * *

The bush wasn't bad compared to the air vent. Dust fills Hide's lungs. It's murderous not to cough. If he moves another inch, the metal will clank and Furuta will realize it's not rats.

At least having more people in the dorm provides a better cover. Hide stretches his neck out to peer down through the grate into Furuta's office.

"Hirako, you—" Furuta starts as the door opens.

"Here." Hirako marches over, thrusting a slip of paper at Furuta. Hide squints. _Does that say—_

_I RESIGN._

_No fucking way!_ It's all Hide can do not to cackle. But at the same time, his stomach cramps. _If Hirako leaves… and he's one of the truly good guys here…_

"Without notice? You'll—"

"I don't give a damn," Hirako says. "I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing, _Souta_ , but—"

 _That strange name again_.

"—if you're trying to get back at your father or—"

Furuta laughs.

_Do you ever react in any other way?_

_Oh yeah._ Hide remembers his counseling sessions. _With faux-sympathy._

"Fuck you," Hirako tells him. "Arima is a good man, and you're a—"

"What?" asks Furuta innocently.

"Snake," Hirako says, and then the door slams.

Hide painstakingly types a text to everyone.

 _So we're all fucked,_ Shirazu responds.

 _Literally all we have are Ui, Hairu, Koma, Irimi, Matsumae, and Yomo standing between him and ruining all our lives,_ says Juuzou.

 _Stay on the streets; it'll be safer,_ says Kurona.

Hide's leg starts to cramp. _Do you ever sleep Furuta, or are you a goddamn vampire?_ _Leave so I can search your bloody office!_

"Hm." Furuta glances at his own phone and sets it aside. "You know," he says as he gets to his feet and stretches. "Security cameras do run in this office complex. It's one of the few places on campus we have them, besides the mailroom and the main entrance."

_Are you on speaker phone? With whom?_

Furuta flings his head back, grinning up at the grate. "It can't be comfortable up there, can it, Nagachika?"

Hide freezes. _Think_. He grabs his phone.

"It's warm out, and yet I'm cold," says Furuta, wandering away from his desk. "Have you ever been to Death Valley? I hear it can get scorching there. They have all sorts of interesting death-related names for mountains and passes there. Funeral Mountains. Hell's Gate. Furnace Creek."

Hide can feel the heat pumping through already.

"It must have taken you at least forty minutes to slither here. Of course, getting out you won't necessarily have to be quiet," says Furuta, crossing his arms and returning to his desk. He props himself up on it, swinging his legs. "I'm waiting."

Sweat slides down Hide's temples.

"Oh," says Furuta. "In case your plan _wasn't_ to sneak into my office after I leave, there's a latch on that thing that you should be able to reach rather easily. If you don't want to be brought to Dr. Kanou."

 _I don't have a choice, do I?_ Hide grits his teeth as he fumbles with the latch. It breaks, and he tumbles to the floor, hacking. His knee throbs from where it slammed into the wooden floor.

Furuta leaps over him and locks the office door. "Now," he says. "Pull out your phone."

Hide shakes his head.

"Oh, but I'm going to give you want you want," Furuta croons, crouching down so that he's at eye level with Hide. "You want the location the auction, don't you? Because Kaneki thinks that Rize will suddenly have a change of heart and tell them that he and Arima are being set up, and Kaneki can return and just maybe have a semblance of a family for his last few months here?"

Hide's brain whirs ahead. He grabs the phone.

"Good boy," Furuta says, pulling a gun out from his waistband.

_Holy shit._

"Type exactly as I tell you to, and I promise not to hurt any of them. Type anything I don't want, and I'll make sure someone in Dorm Block 20 has a sudden drug problem and an overdose. Shame for Kaneki if it'd be Kirishima."

 _You're threatening Touka?_ Hide's thumbs shake as he types out the message.

_Kaneki, I found it on Furuta's computer. The auction is at 9pm Thursday by the docks at a place called the Sunlit Garden._

"Good," says Furuta after Hide sends the text to the group.

"That's not the real location, is it?" Hide demands.

"No, it is." Furuta bites back a smile. "Now text again, and tell them that you're going to have to run away, because I caught you, and it's too dangerous to try and meet up. Tell them you'll meet them on Thursday at the Sunlit Garden."

"Are you going to kill me?" Hide asks, his hands frozen.

"No," says Furuta, aiming the gun at him. "You _will_ be meeting them there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Mutsuki, Urie, Shirazu, Saiko, and Kurona craft a plan.


	39. Ignition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't try this at home please.

"Hide says he'll kill Kaneki if he worries about him," reports Shirazu as he reads the latest text.

"Well, Kaneki's gonna worry," snorts Urie.

Mutsuki strains to listen and see if there are any creaks coming from the stairs. Ui confiscated the phones and laptops of every student who ran away, including Karren, but not the ones who stayed, so all it took was a warning from Mutsuki and they were removed from the texting list. Karren's been moved down to Touka, Yoriko, and Hinami's room, much to Tsukiyama's misery.

 _What's your plan?_ Urie types.

 _You can't just waltz in and be like 'Rize please' and expect to get out,_ Mutsuki adds. He huddles next to Urie on Urie's bed, their shoulders pressed together.

 _& u don't have the money to buy her_ , adds Kurona. _That's from Hinami._

Shirazu snickers. All the girls are probably crowded over Saiko, Yoriko, Kimi, and Kurona's shoulders. The boys upstairs are screwed, though. Shirazu's promised to keep them informed, but they can't participate in any conversations.

 _Distractions,_ says Juuzou. _We stage them, we create panic, we use it to get in and we get her out._

 _Have u considered any other ppl u might find?_ asks Kurona. _From Karren. What'll u do about them?_

 _Cross that bridge when we come to it,_ responds Ayato.

 _We have to help you,_ texts Saiko.

 _How?_ demands Urie, tensing next to to Mutsuki.

 _Tomorrow everyone who ran away has to spend all day in interrogation, though Shuu's dad is complicating things by getting everyone a top-notch lawyer,_ responds Saiko. _I say those of us who haven't been caught yet sneak out._

 _I think that's a good idea,_ responds Hide.

 _Can we meet up with you?_ asks Mutsuki.

_No. I'm investigating something else on my own. And don't worry about me Kaneki._

_Every time you say that I worry more._

_You can get out via the gate behind the library. There's a loose lock that you can open with just a bobby pin. Since they're guarding the oak tree escape now,_ Hide texts.

Mutsuki frowns. "How come you didn't mention this before?" he wonders aloud.

"Who knows; he was probably desperate trying to escape from Furuta," says Shirazu, dangling his head down from the top bunk. "Oh good, you both still have clothes on."

"Hey!" Urie shouts.

"Do you realize I can't even say 'get a room' to you guys? It's frustrating as hell." But Shirazu winks at Mutsuki. He blushes.

 _I'm not running away_ , Yoriko texts. _I'm too scared._

 _I think I shouldn't, either,_ Kimi admits.

 _That's fine_ , says Shirazu.

 _I'm good to go,_ says Kurona.

 _What's your distraction plan?_ asks Mutsuki.

 _Working on it,_ Juuzou responds, along with several smiling emojis, a devil emoji, and a fire emoji.

 _Do not let him light the place on fire, Kaneki,_ Saiko texts. _That's from Akira._

"It wouldn't be a bad distraction," mumbles Urie.

Mutsuki's heart begins to pound. He sits bolt upright.

"What?" Urie turns to him, alarm on his face. "Are you okay?"

Mutsuki shakes his head. "Can you get us into the chemistry lab?"

"Why? Matsuri's gone—probably not."

"Why?" asks Shirazu. "What're you thinking, Tooru?"

Mutsuki gulps. "Is there anything you can use in there to create something like a—few small controlled explosions? Or controlled fire, or just smoke that will—"

"Of course there is," Urie cuts in, staring at Mutsuki. "We could pretty easily make rocket candy." He narrows his eyes. "And it wouldn't be hard to get potassium nitrate from the cabinets—if someone can create a distraction in class tomorrow—"

"What the hell is rocket candy?" asks Shirazu.

"Homemade rocket fuel," Urie responds, grabbing his phone and texting. _Do you guys have a place to cook? & Saiko, how does Hsiao feel about having a fight with Aura complete with screaming, sobbing, and a few punches in class tomorrow?_

 _? ? ? ? ?_ texts Seidou.

 _We're making rocket candy to help you guys out,_ Urie says. _I need to steal potassium nitrate from the cabinets. We can get sugar when we leave campus. I just need a place to cook, or a hot plate, and a pan._

 _Hsiao says sure, Aura says no, but Higemaru says he volunteers with great joy because it will be the coolest_ , Saiko reports. _Direct quote._

"Well," says Urie. "Looks like my terrible chemistry skills may come in handy after all."

"There's no chance of you poisoning us all?" asks Shirazu, scrolling through his phone.

"Nope."

"According to this, urban legend has it potassium nitrate causes _impotence_ ," Shirazu reads in horror. "Urie, I can't risk touching that shit."

Mutsuki laughs.

"I'll handle it then, and the point of urban legends is that they have no scientific evidence backing them up!" Urie's face grows red under his purple hair.

Shirazu wiggles his eyebrows. Mutsuki puts his hand on Urie's shoulder. "It's okay," he says, fighting to control a mischievous smile. "I'd still love you."

"No," moans Shirazu, clamping his hands over his ears. "I can't handle this. The two of you had better not start discussing 'other things' you could do or else I'll—"

"Shut up!" Urie shouts as Mutsuki and Shirazu laugh.

Morning comes, and Mutsuki barely gets to greet the others before Ui ushers them off. Touka looks as blue as her hair when Yomo appears.

 _You want to impress Yomo_ , Mutsuki thinks. _You want him to think well of you._

 _I think that's how I feel about Kaneki right now_. He loves Urie, and Kaneki, but differently. Urie is his way forward; Kaneki was always about fixing the past.

" _The things that have happened to us can't be changed," Arima said once, in a session. "But we can fix how we respond to the effects of it."_

_Mutsuki nodded, twisting his sweater over his stomach._

" _You developed coping mechanisms to handle things no child should have to handle, because you were scared and you were trying to protect yourself by any means necessary. That's all your dissociation is, Mutsuki. You don't dissociate because you're a freak or your brain is by nature broken. Look at yourself with compassion, because any child facing what you faced—you'd want to comfort them, wouldn't you?"_

_Mutsuki swallowed. "But it'll always be there, won't it?"_

" _Probably," says Arima. "But you should not have to be afraid of it. That's what we're going to work on."_

Mutsuki squeezes Touka's shoulder as she trudges by. _Good luck._ She turns and gives him a quick smile that says it all.

_I trust you._

_I want to be your friend,_ Mutsuki thinks. _I'm sorry I was so jealous._ Somehow he knows Touka won't condemn him for it.

They've agreed to leave right after chemistry class, before art and before Mutsuki's hypnotherapy appointment with Furuta. No way is Mutsuki allowing Furuta access to his dissociative state. Although the only way he's been able to keep it off is by telling Furuta okay, he'd do it, but they had to talk more about it first, create trigger words, etc. Which they have been, but now he'll be gone.

_I'm not letting you exploit me._

Mutsuki drums his pen against his notebook. Tatara drones on and on. He hopes the interrogations aren't too bad. In the meantime, Tsukiyama's credit card is securely tucked in Saiko's pocket.

"Stop it, Hsiao!" shrieks Higemaru.

Tatara continues lecturing as if he hasn't heard a word.

"Hey!" bellows Hsiao. "Don't copy my notes, Higemaru!" She leaps to her feet, curling her fist.

"Sit back down and shut up," Tatara snaps.

"Why?" yells Hsiao. "He's being—"

Urie tenses in the seat next to Mutsuki.

"Oh, shut up!" Higemaru grabs Hsiao's notebook. "There are no good notes to copy anyways! All you do is write love poetry and it makes me sick!" The notebook flips through the air, careening towards one of the counters. It crashes into a row of flasks, sending glass shattering against the tiles. A bottle of acid tips over—the cap on, but the glass punctures it.

"What are you doing?" bellows Tatara. The room erupts into chaos. "Everyone—"

Urie jumps to his feet, skittering over to the key rack and grabbing the keys to the right cabinet. Mutsuki rushes towards the mess, where Tatara is already ordering them into lab coats and gloves, and a grinning Higemaru and fake-abashed Hsiao to the principal's office. Kurona grabs a broom.

 _Ha, Furuta_ , thinks Mutsuki with a smirk. _How're you gonna deal with this?_

Urie joins them in the clean up, a satisfied smirk on his face. He winks at Mutsuki.

* * *

"Oh, thank God," breathes Seidou when Mutsuki, Urie, Shirazu, Saiko, and Kurona arrive at the public park.

"You look a little worse for wear," Kurona comments, taking them in. The sun may be shining, birds may be tweeting, and flowers may bud on the trees, but night's still frigid, and sleeping outside in a park is not Seidou's idea of restful. Especially not when a tree root or a stone digs into his shoulder, his kidneys, his calf. They took turns keeping watch, but Seidou doubts any of them got more than an hour of sleep.

"Ta-da!" Saiko proclaims, holding out Tsukiyama's credit card. "Let's find a motel. We need one with a kitchen, so we're not living the luxurious life now."

"We have sugar and everything we need," adds Urie, gripping the strap of his backpack.

"How are they?" Kaneki asks, leaping to his feet.

"They're okay," says Mutsuki. "Being interrogated today, but Mirumo Tsukiyama got them all lawyers."

Kaneki nods, pulling his hair back from his face. "Thank you. All of you."

"No problem," says Shirazu with a grin.

 _You're all such giving people,_ Seidou thinks with a pang. _The only reason I'm involved with this is because I'm selfish._

"After we find the motel, do we all need to help make this rocket fuel?" questions Juuzou.

"No," Urie says. "I'm doing it. Tomorrow, because it'll be better when it's fresh. And Mutsuki. And Shirazu, and Saiko. No one else. In fact, it'd probably be better if the rest of you weren't in the room."

Juuzou rolls his eyes. "Well, I suggest the rest of us take that credit card and go buy club-worthy clothes. Because none of us are getting in there looking like this. I wouldn't put it past Furuta to suspect we'll show up and tell security to watch for some hobo kids."

"Sounds fine to me," says Kurona.

"Actually, today, while the rest of us look for motels," says Kaneki. "Some of us should check out the Sunlit Garden. See what it looks like so we can have an idea of where to plant this rocket fuel."

"I'll go," volunteers Ayato, flicking his earring.

"I'll go with you," Seidou says, mostly because he trusts Ayato to pull it off by himself about as much as he trusts a shark presented with a bleeding victim.

"Kurona, can you go with them too?" asks Kaneki. "We'll text you about where to meet up."

"Sure thing," Kurona responds.

The train rumbles as the three of them board. It takes off, and Kurona clings to the pole to hold herself upright. "Nice hair. You look like a ghoul."

Seidou scowls. "Well, at least I'm unrecognizable."

"Are you planning on running after we rescue Rize?" asks Kurona. "Because you know you'll have to take some of the blame."

"Are you?" Seidou returns, her question probing in an area he'd prefer not to think about. It throbs.

"No," says Kurona, leaning her cheek against the pole.

"Neither am I." Seidou bites his lip. "I don't deserve it." Freedom. Or a future.

_I'm sorry, Mommy._

"If we're all given what we'd deserve, the whole world would be blind," Kurona says. "I think Gandhi said that. And look at Valjean and the bishop. And Javert, and what happens to him."

Seidou scowls. "You didn't kill your parents."

"Only Shiro," whispers Kurona. "I couldn't save her."

 _Not the same_. Or is it? Neither of them wanted the people they loved to die.

"Look," interjects Ayato. "Kaneki—he forgave me for—Yamori. He doesn't hold it against you."

 _And you didn't deserve that._ Seidou shakes his head.

 _I have no idea how to forgive myself_.

 _You called me a good man,_ Seidou thinks as he watches Kurona, the city flying by as the train propels them towards the Sunlit Garden. _Why? What the hell are your standards?_

"Kaneki cares about other people," Kurona says. "He treats them like they matter."

_That's it, isn't it?_

Seidou squeezes his eyes shut. _I care about Akira and Amon. I'm doing this for them._

 _And they ran away for me as much as for Kaneki._ It chafes at him.

_To honor them, shouldn't I try?_

He opens his eyes to see the city swallowed up by a tunnel, but Kurona's face still illuminated by the train's lights, her dark bangs falling to her eyes, but her eyes still open and watching him.

_I don't know if I can do it._

Ayato sighs and stares out of the window at the black tunnel.

_I have to try._

* * *

"Are we ready?" asks Kaneki, the containers of rocket fuel spread out in three backpacks. The stuff looks like caramel, but Juuzou has no desire to eat it. The beds in this motel are small and covered in fraying, ugly yellow and red floral quilts. The wallpaper peels, and a distinct smoky odor permeates the room. One small, cloudy window gives a stark view of a concrete wall. It's like being trapped, and Juuzou doesn't like it.

They're all dressed to blend in, no prostitute outfits this time. Juuzou dyed his hair back to black, hoping that if Big Madam's there, she won't recognize him. And he still hopes to death that she's in jail, because it'll make things simpler.

"Yes," says Seidou. "You and me; Kurona, Juuzou, and Mutsuki; Urie and Saiko; Shirazu and Ayato."

"Our group takes the back exit of the strip club on the first floor," says Kurona. "And we set it off first."

"We take the kitchen," says Urie. "And wait for Hide, and if you're not back down by 9:20, we go up."

"Second floor," says Ayato. "Auction area."

"Seidou and I will head to the third floor, where they'll be keeping the people," Kaneki finishes. "In the chaos, hopefully they won't ask what we're doing."

"It's a lot larger than you'd think," Ayato says, pulling his hair back. "I wouldn't be surprised if it looks like a maze inside."

"Let's hope for open areas," says Saiko with a cringe.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom," says Seidou.

Juuzou mutters likewise, heaving back to his motel room even though he doesn't have to go. _If Mama wasn't caught when the police came the other night, she will be now._

He doesn't want her to suffer.

He wants her to stop hurting people.

Somehow he thinks that would make Shinohara proud. _And he's suffering because of me._

After Seidou finishes and leaves their room, Juuzou ducks into the bathroom. He holds the phone in his hand, worrying his lip.

_He's always helped me._

He dials and gets voicemail. Somewhat of a letdown, but probably for the best.

"Shinohara? It's Juuzou. If you want to know where we are, we're going to try and rescue Rize at the Sunlit Garden tonight, by the docks, at—" Juuzou hesitates. "9:15." He doesn't know what else to say. _I miss you? Are you disappointed in me, or do you understand?_ "Okay, bye."

The train ride over is silent, filled only with their own racing thoughts, the ones Juuzou would bet they're too afraid to reveal to each other. Mutsuki holds Urie's hand.

They arrive at their stop and slip through the streets, the smell of salt water in the air. Music echoes, intoxicating and inviting passersby the dance, come in to what looks like an ordinary strip club. Golden lights flash, and a neon sign of a girl writhing around a pole glows. The girl on the sign is frozen in an eternal wink.

They stop in the parking lot, ducking behind a silver SUV. _This is it._ Juuzou's not scared for himself.

 _You all better stay safe,_ he thinks as he looks around at the faces gathered. Kurona, who shivers and wraps her arms over herself even though it's warm out, Seidou, cheeks hollow but nodding, Mutsuki, terrified but determined, Urie with his jaw set and Saiko biting her lip in time to the music, Shirazu blowing out his breath and clapping his hands together, Ayato with fury burning in his eyes, and Kaneki, studying each of their faces as if he'd like to memorize them.

"We aren't just doing this for you," says Ayato. "So don't think that bullshit, Kaneki. That's what my sister told me to tell you, via Kimi's texts."

"It's true," acknowledges Kurona.

"But it's in part for you," says Mutsuki quietly.

"Because we love you," says Saiko. "Ken."

"Hide says he'll be here at 9:15," Urie reads.

"Perfect." Kaneki nods. "All of you—thank you." His face breaks into a wavering smile. "I don't deserve you all—"

"Yeah," says Seidou, looking at Kurona. A smile spreads across her lips. "But we're here."

They split up, Kurona leading the way. Mutsuki clutches his bag of rocket candy, and Juuzou holds the lighter.

"We have to make sure people aren't nearby, so they won't get hurt," Mutsuki reminds them.

"Eh, I don't much care for anyone here," Juuzou grumbles, but he nods. The building isn't wooden. It shouldn't go up in flames. Hopefully the fire alarm will force people to evacuate.

The club's decorated with sparkling purple poles and dim lights. Strippers dance around the poles. Juuzou frowns. Some of the moves look like outright gymnastics. The sweet smell of alcohol and the stench of sweat mingle in the air.

"You kids old enough to be in here?" demands a gruff voice.

"Of course," says Kurona, flipping her hair back. Her low-cut shirt, red and revealing a bit of her midriff, catches the bouncer's eyes, and he nods, backing down.

"Let me know if anyone gives you trouble."

Mutsuki cringes, pulling at the ends of his shirt. Juuzou wonders how he's going to hold up.

Urie and Saiko vanish towards the bar area, Urie casting one last glance at Mutsuki, who's rubbing his hands vigorously against the sides of his pants. Juuzou catches his elbow. "It's okay."

"Thanks," Mutsuki breathes, face relaxing as Juuzou leads him across the floor, through the crowds of people laughing and tossing money at the dancers.

"Exit's towards the bathrooms," says Kurona, striding towards the sign. Glitter falls from the ceiling, and Juuzou throws his head back and laughs, opening his arms.

"Try to act your age," hisses Kurona.

"You take the fun out of everything," Juuzou retorts.

Mutsuki plucks some glitter from his hair and flicks it onto Juuzou's locks. He grins.

The exit door's painted black, and no bouncer guards it. A stairway leads up to the second floor, where Ayato and Shirazu ought to be. Mutsuki drops to the ground, unzippering the backpack. "Ready?"

"We better be," says Juuzou, pulling out his lighter.

"Hold on," squeaks Mutsuki, scrambling away from the door just as it bursts open. A group of businessmen march in, all laughing as they clamber up the stairs. They ignore the three of them.

Kurona cracks the door open. "No one's coming."

"That was a lot of people," whispers Mutsuki as he kneels back down. Juuzou hands over the lighter. "Should we—"

"Yeah," says Juuzou. "We're not waiting here. That's Urie and Saiko's job. Let's go help the upstairs crew after we set this off."

Mutsuki nods. Juuzou pulls out his phone, though he doesn't think he'll need to send a text. A smoke alarm blinks sleepily only a few meters away.

"Here we go," says Mutsuki. Kurona grabs Juuzou's arm and drags him back, towards the stairs. Smoke hisses, and Mutsuki scrambles away from the backpack.

Fire shoots straight into the air, almost up to the ceiling. Smoke erupts. The fire alarm screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to mercyandmagic for the chemistry knowledge.


	40. The Ones No One Will Miss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! A warning for violence (including blood) as well as implied substance use in this chapter.

"Glad to hear you finally agreed to see me," Yomo snarls as he bursts through the door to Yoshimura's new apartment. Arata follows him into the tiny room, with a small circular window above a red couch over an azure carpet. He stops short when he sees exactly who's sitting on that couch. " _Oh."_

Hirako and Shinohara both nurse cups of coffee, expressions identically somber.

"Hello, Renji," Yoshimura calls from the kitchen, comprised of unevenly stained wooden cabinets and old appliances. The fridge whirs. A kettle whistles on the stove. The smell of coffee invites him in, welcomes him home, even if he's never been there before. "Arata."

Shinohara stiffens.

 _Well, this is awkward,_ Yomo thinks, clenching his fists. _Considering the fact that Shinohara arrested Arata._

 _I should probably say something_. Yomo opens his mouth, but his mind deserts him. _Words! Where are you?_ "Um—he's Touka and Ayato's father. He deserves to be kept informed."

"I agree," says Shinohara, watching Arata. Yomo's brother-in-law's shoulders slump, and he keeps his gaze fixed on the oriental carpet, shame pinching his features. "I'm glad to have you, Arata. They've been wonderful additions to my dorm."

And he says it like he means it, and Yomo knows he does. _You don't care about the trouble they've caused so much as you care about them._

Arata lifts his head and holds out his hand. Shinohara takes it.

Yoshimura smiles.

"Touka still won't talk," Yomo reports. "According to Mado. None of them will."

"I'm terrified," says Hirako. "I know that fruity bastard is behind this somehow. But I can't fucking prove anything."

"I can't even _find_ anything," Arata admits as he takes a seat, knees showing through his threadbare jeans. "I've been trying to contact people all week, but those who will talk to me know nothing, and the ones who won't talk to me—well. I gave Yomo names too, and he—"

Yomo sits next to him, across from Hirako and Shinohara. "I haven't gotten anywhere, either."

The door opens again, and Mirumo Tsukiyama strides in, followed by Kazuichi Banjou.

"I thought Tsukiyama might know more than all of us put together," Yoshimura says, handing Yomo and Arata some coffee. "And no, I haven't heard from my daughter."

_It hurts you more than you let on, doesn't it?_

_We always miss the people who leave us, whether they're alive or dead._

"I can't believe Furuta—" Banjou's face dissolves. "He always did ask a lot of questions about Rize Kamishiro, but I thought that was because he knew Shachi had asked me to watch out for her—"

_He did?_

"I don't know where they are," Mirumo confirms. "But Shuu did promise to tell me if they were in serious danger. As far as he knows anyways. And Chie Hori—"

"She's hacked the school's system," Yomo explains to Arata.

"—is currently hacking into Furuta's operating system as well."

"Didn't Mado take her gadgets for inspection?" asks Yomo.

"Sure," says Mirumo. "So she erased the evidence and I gave her some new ones." He strokes his chin. "She's quite talented. Too talented to be consigned to a miserable future just because of her life circumstances."

"If she keeps hacking, I'm not sure she's going to improve those circumstances," interjects Hirako.

"No, but she could turn that talent into something good if she studies computer science," muses Shinohara.

"I swear teenagers think of the most complicated solutions instead of the obvious ones," mutters Yomo, turning his phone over and over in his hand. Uta's supposed to be out again tonight, looking again for any sign of the missing kids.

Shinohara pulls out his phone and frowns.

"What?" asks Hirako, setting his coffee down.

"Just a voicemail," Shinohara says. "Excuse me." He gets up and slips out the door.

"I delete those right away," comments Mirumo.

"Me too," Yomo admits.

"That explains a lot," mumbles Arata.

 _Oops_. Yomo's face grows red.

Shinohara bursts back inside the apartment. " _I know where they are!"_

"Where?" yells Arata.

"How?" Yomo demands, leaping to his feet. His heart pounds. _For real this time?_

"Juuzou called—" Shinohara plays the message.

"Rescue Rize?" gasps Banjou. Yoshimura's already striding to get his coat.

"I'll inform Matsumae and Ui," says Mirumo, grabbing his keys. "And have a talk with Shuu about his definition of the word 'danger.'"

"I'm going," declares Arata. "I'm not leaving my son to walk into that place alone and—"

" _We're_ going," says Yomo. Hirako, Yoshimura, and Shinohara all nod. The colors in the room fade away. _We're the strangest group of allies ever._

"I have a car," says Shinohara, and they all charge out of the apartment. Shinohara hands the phone to Hirako, who tries to call the number back.

No answer.

 _Please,_ Yomo prays. _Hikari, any God that's listening, don't let us be too late._

* * *

"For that matter," Kureo Mado continues, his lecture going in one ear and out the other for Touka. "You will all be—"

Mirumo Tsukiyama bursts into the door of the lounge, Matsumae beside him. Touka gapes.

"Dad!" cries out Tsukiyama. "What—"

"Kureo—" gasps Matsumae. "We found them! Juuzou called Shinohara! They're at a club called the Sunlit Garden—"

"Is that the one by the docks not far from here?" asks Ui, appearing from the apartment. "Because I just saw a breaking news report that bombs may have gone off there. Or there's a fire."

 _Bombs?_ Touka's knees lock. She remembers the potassium nitrate Urie stole. _Urie, what did you do?_

"Oh shit," mutters Karren.

"Please tell me you know nothing about this," says Mirumo.

"Not specifics," offers Nishiki. "Someone did, um, steal a bunch of potassium nitrate with the intention of making rocket candy, but—"

"What the hell is that?" erupts Mado.

"Who cares?" screams Touka. "That's my brother! That's my boyfriend! They've got to be—Rize's got to be there!"

"What?" demands Mado, turning to her.

"They're trying to save Rize!" Hinami yells at him, curling her fists. Her face flushes red with an anger Touka's seldom seen.

"We have to go," Amon croaks out. "I need to be there—"

"You're not going anywhere!"

"Dad!" shrieks Akira. "We have to—we'll stay behind cop lines—they could be _dying!"_

 _Honestly, what did we think would happen?_ Touka wracks her mind and can't come up with a good answer. "Furuta—Kanou—"

" _They've_ been trafficking people!" Akira shouts. "Not Arima—"

"Why didn't you come to me if—"

"I don't have proof!" Akira peers at her father, tears streaming down her face. "You taught me—you taught me instinct, and I—it's not enough for the law—and they're bribing the police—the Washuus run a trafficking ring; they groom kids here and take them!"

"What?" Ui shouts. His face pales.

"They do," Amon insists. "They're working with Donato, too."

"The Washuus?" Ui cries again. "Matsuri—Furuta—"

"Furuta was _rescued_ from a trafficking ring," snarls Mado.

"Furuta's Matsuri's illegitimate brother," says Ui.

_What?_

"He couldn't—" Ui gulps, and realization starts to dawn. "Oh my God."

"You believe this?" Mado demands.

Ui looks sickened. He nods.

"Why?"

"Later."

"We have to go," Akira repeats. "Seidou's there—Kaneki—"

 _Kaneki… Ayato…_ Touka's desperate. "Please. We'll obey the rules, this time—we'll wait outside, behind the lines—we don't even have to leave the car—"

"Why would I believe you when every other time you've lied about obeying the rules?" shouts Mado.

"Maybe you won't let them," says Mirumo. "But I'm taking Shuu and Karren."

"Dad, _please_ ," says Akira. "It's—you wouldn't be able to stand it if it were Mom there—or me." Something dawns on her face, the exact same thought that's occurred to Touka.

_This is what we put you through when we ran away._

Touka slaps her forehead.

"I'm so sorry," Akira chokes out.

"Please," begs Amon, holding Akira to his chest.

"I could drive some of them," Ui ventures. "Mirumo, Kureo, you both have cars too—we can call Koma and see if he and Irimi will take them too—"

"Fine," Mado says, gaping at his daughter. "But you're all to stay in the cars, and I will lock you in, do you understand?"

Every single head nods.

* * *

Kaneki's lungs burn, and his eyes throb as he gropes through the smoke-saturated air. He can't even tell where the stairs are. _These things are really effective, Urie._

"Got the door," croaks Seidou from above him. A few moments later, he's grasping Kaneki's wrist and pulling him up into the third floor. The fire alarm screeches, a hellish chorus. Blood pumps through Kaneki's veins. He cracks his fingers.

_Shit._

The third floor's like a labyrinth. A narrow hallway runs down the length of the building, walls gray. An old, fake-gold chandelier casts an eerie glow. Several other hallways, cloaked in shadows, branch off the main one. There are no windows to be found. Three girls scramble out of their rooms, clad in lingerie and yelling about whether or not there's actually a fire.

"The fuck are you doing here?" demands one of the girls, but she pushes past Kaneki without a word.

"We check all the rooms," Kaneki says. _We don't have time to waste_. "We should split up—"

Three kids barrel out from one of the hallways, one of them tripping and tumbling. The others help him up.

Kaneki wants to vomit, looking at how young they are.

"Who are you?" demands one with curly, light hair.

"Where's Rize Kamishiro?" yells Seidou.

Two of the kids take off towards the stairs, but the curly-haired one gapes back at Seidou.

"Purple hair," Kaneki says. "Very beautiful. Glasses—maybe. About eighteen years old."

The one with lavender hair turns around. "Come on, Shio!"

The boy with curly hair—Shio—points behind him. "Two hallways down. Take a left, and then a right. She's the third door."

And then he's gone, and Kaneki takes off.

" _Find Rize," Tsukiyama says Karren told him._

" _Find my daughter," Shachi told Kaneki, before he got himself sent back to prison._ Because Rize's worth that much to him, no matter what she's done.

" _She shouldn't have threatened you like that," Touka said one night, when they both lay side by side in bed._

She shouldn't have. _What she did was wrong._

 _But what's happening to her is wrong, too._ Kaneki veers down the hallway Shio identified, Seidou on his heels. A left, and then a right— _this place_ is _a maze_ —and there's the third door. He pounds on it.

No answer. Desperate, Kaneki raises his fist again.

"Well shit," says Seidou. "Back up." He curls his lips in a snarl.

Kaneki obeys. Seidou throws himself against the door feet first. It cracks. It flies open. Seidou tumbles to the ground.

And Rize lifts her head from a tiny cot she lies on. A lilac dress droops over one shoulder, and needle marks scar her arms. Her hair still shines, but it's greasy too, and matted on one side of her head. Used tissues sit in a small trash bin.

"Who are you?" Rize demands, voice shaky, but sultry. _A trap_. Kaneki recognizes it now.

"My name is Ken Kaneki," he says. "We went out at the beginning of the school year."

Rize narrows her eyes, curling her legs up. "You—"

"We're here to help you escape," Kaneki says. "This is Seidou Takizawa."

"The Seidou Takizawa I know cared too much about impressing people to look like that."

"That Seidou is dead," Seidou says, glancing over his shoulder as if he can hear footsteps. Kaneki can't hear anything besides the screaming fire alarm.

Rize narrows her eyes, standing. Her long hair swings behind her. "You're not here to save me, are you? You're here to—you want revenge." Her chest heaves. She's not wearing a bra. "It doesn't make any sense—you're not—"

Kaneki takes off his jacket and offers it to her. She slaps it out of his hands and lunges at him.

"Shachi told me to save you!" Kaneki yells as Rize lands on top of him. Seidou flies at her, grabbing her waist. Rize screams, kicking and scratching. Kaneki's arms fly up to cover his eyes.

"Well," says the voice of a thin man with white hair and deep lines marring his face. "What have we here?"

Rize freezes. "Donato."

"I don't believe these customers paid."

"Because we're not customers," Seidou snarls. "We're taking her out of here."

"If she wants to go," Kaneki says, easing out from under Rize. She glowers at him, her eyes red. A circular bruise shows on her neck. "Do you? Or do you want to stay here?" _What'll I do if she does?_

_I want my freedom. I want my life back._

_I_ want _to live._

Donato crosses his arms. " _Do_ you want to go, Rize?"

"You have to want to go," Seidou interjects. "We went through all this trouble—we had to—Furuta's done all this just to—"

 _"Furuta?"_ asks Rize, narrowing her eyes.

"Yeah," pants Kaneki. "He and Dr. Kanou—"

"Let's get the fuck out of here," says Rize. "Not that I trust you."

Donato charges for her, but Seidou throws himself in the way, tackling Donato. Donato's skull cracks against the corner of the cot, but he still manages to reach out, grab Seidou and roll on top of him. Kaneki prepares a kick the same way Touka would.

"Don't wait around!" screams Seidou. "Get out of here! Get her out! I'll meet you outside!"

Kaneki hesitates.

_We came for Rize._

_She wants to leave._

Kaneki grabs her hand and pulls her out of the room, down the hallway and onto the smoke-filled staircase.

* * *

Donato's elbow hooks in Seidou's throat. He gags, bucking to get the old man off him— _how can you fight so well—you should be too old_ —

Donato's foot collides with Seidou's face, and Seidou spits blood. He tries to get to his feet only to discover he can't put weight on his arm.

 _Come back,_ he thinks about yelling, but Kaneki and Rize shouldn't be able to hear him from now if they can run with any kind of decent speed.

Besides, they need to get away. They have futures. Even Rize.

 _I could have one,_ Seidou thinks as Donato brings a blow down on the side of his head. His neck cracks. Stars flash in front of his eyes. Dizziness overwhelms him. The concrete floor reaches up to grab him, pin him to it.

 _Or not._ A knife glints in Donato's hand.

 _You were right. I do care about my own redemption after all_.

Blood stings his eyes, tints his vision red. Seidou sucks in his breath. _I hope it doesn't hurt._

Donato cries out and pitches forward. The knife flies away, clattering against the wall.

And Kurona's face peers down at his. Two of her faces, really. Seidou tries to curve his lips in a smile, but everything's spinning.

Donato struggles, and both Kuronas pounce. She slams her foot into his belly, stomping on his groin. A laugh rasps from Seidou's lips.

"Come on," Kurona grunts, only one of her now. She grabs and pockets the knife, crouching down and hoisting Seidou over her shoulder. "We gotta move, and you've gotta help me as best you can."

The pain clamps onto him like a vice-grip. His stomach lurches, and he bites his cheek, straining to keep from vomiting.

"C'mon," Kurona says, staggering down the hallway. "He'll be after us in a few."

* * *

Ayato coughs, doubling over to avoid the smoke. _Damn, Urie_.

"The ceiling caught fire!" screams a voice. Shirazu clutches Ayato's shoulder as they stagger out of the way. A fire extinguisher fizzes. People, women in magenta dresses and men in suits with turquoise ties spring for the exit, pouring out of several smaller rooms off to the side. The second floor's set up with one enormous room, a row of small rooms to the left, and one hallway at the very end running horizontal across the ballroom and beyond on both sides.

Ayato's lung spasm again, and he covers his mouth with his elbow. Shirazu sprints for the corridor, Ayato following. His eyes sting. Water streams down his cheeks. Behind them, a bald man howls about chemical weapons and how they might be breathing toxic smoke.

_Is it toxic? Why didn't I ask Urie?_

The building's shaped like an L, and the left branch of the corridor turns left again. Ayato lopes towards the corner.

Shirazu rounds it ahead of him, and Ayato hears a groan.

His heart skips a beat. A thud.

"Shirazu!" Ayato bellows, charging around it to see Shirazu crumpled on the ground, clutching his abdomen. A knife drips above him.

Furuta grins, a crazed devil-man. He wipes the blood off on his suit jacket, crimson dissolving on black.

"What have you done?" Ayato screams, dropping to the ground by Shirazu. "Put pressure on it!" Damn, he's bleeding a lot. Red seeps between Shirazu's fingers, between Ayato's, staining, staining his hands, his jeans, his scarf.

"What have I done?" Furuta shrugs. "You're the ones who snuck in here."

"He's just a kid!" Ayato cries.

"Really?" Furuta arches an eyebrow. "The world doesn't see you that way."

Shirazu mumbles something under his breath. Something about his sister.

 _She's in the hospital, right?_ "She's gonna be fine," Ayato assures him. " _You're_ gonna be fine—I'm gonna get you out—"

Furuta cackles. "Oh, it's so _sweet_." He claps his hands together. "You really are just kids."

Tears burn in Ayato's eyes. His lungs spasm and he hacks again. "It's—over for you," he gasps out. _I want to sound brave._ Because he feels like cowering. Furuta still hold the knife and no one else is around, no one who will help, and his friend's dying in from of him and there's _nothing_ Ayato can do. He literally kneels on Shirazu's abdomen. "Stop bleeding!" he screams.

" _Is_ it over?" Furuta asks, scratching his head. Some blood must have still been on his fingers, because he leaves a streak on his forehead. "It's not hard to disappear. Or to reinvent yourself. You'll disappear, too. You and Ginshi here. You're the kids no one will miss, except maybe your siblings, but someday they'll be gone and no one will miss them either."

"Why are you doing this?" His voice is a croak.

"Run," croaks Shirazu, face pale, mouth open, gasping.

"Fuck no!"

"Why does anyone do anything?" Furuta asks. "Every kid who goes to that wretched school is denied kindness. I know it. You know it. I lived it. And she—" His lips tremble.

_Who? Rize?_

"She's going to be gone," Ayato says, blood sticky and warm against his palm. "Kaneki will tell them—"

"Will he?" asks Furuta, deftly stepping over Shirazu and looking down at the two of them.

 _He's blocking my exit,_ Ayato realizes. Clearly he thought there was a risk of Ayato running _._ Power shoots through him. _At least I made you worry for a second_. "Yes. He will."

"I don't know," muses Furuta. "Considering I have his best friend upstairs too. Can you imagine? We'll see what Kaneki does when he realizes he might have to choose between Rize and his own future, or Hide. Or, _I'll_ see. You won't, which really is a shame. You were, at least, interesting."

" _Hey!"_ A small figure pounces, wrapping their arms around Furuta's waist. He stumbles. The knife raises to slash. Another kid, with pale curly hair, grabs Furuta's arm, struggling for the knife, while a boy with dark hair kicks Furuta's crotch. The knife tumbles to the floor.

Ayato gapes at them.

"Mutsuki, go!" he hears a familiar voice yelling. Juuzou rounds the corner and gapes at the trio of what look like fourteen-year-olds taking turns kicking Furuta in the head. Juuzou swears when he sees Shirazu. "Help me get him out!"

"He has Hide," Ayato blabbers. "Upstairs—I have to tell Kaneki—"

Juuzou's eyes narrow.

"We can help," says the boy with curly hair. He nods at Shirazu. "We can help you carry him."

Ayato curses and shrugs out of his sweatshirt, pressing it against the wound. "Live," he begs.

" _Go_ ," Shirazu grunts, face chalk-white.

Ayato takes off, tearing for the stairs. The few patrons still lingering gasp when they see the blood splattered on his clothes. The fire's now out, leaving a charred husk at the doorway. " _Kaneki!"_

He bursts onto the staircase to see Kaneki helping a girl—Rize—down the stairs.

 _It wasn't for nothing._ Ayato doubles over.

"Ayato!" shrieks Kaneki. "You're bleeding!"

He shakes his head. "I'm fine—Kaneki—he has Hide—he has Hide on the third floor—"

 _Furuta knew._ He _sent those texts._ _He knew all along we'd be coming here. He just wanted to play with us._ The scent of smoke and blood mingle, and Ayato gags.

Kaneki's face crumples, and he's never looked more terrified.

* * *

Mutsuki charges up the stairs. Kaneki helps pull Rize down. "Seidou's upstairs—" Kaneki cries.

Kurona thumps up them. Mutsuki turns after Juuzou, who follows three disheveled kids into a huge ballroom. Juuzou turns around and narrows his eyes. "Mustuki, go!" His arms flap through the air, gesturing towards the staircase.

 _Help Kurona_. Mutsuki nods and spins around. He trips over a chair. His chin smacks the floor. His mouth fills with blood. He spits it out and staggers to his feet.

"Need help?" croons a familiar voice.

 _No_. Mutsuki whirls around to see Dr. Kanou standing there, hair slicked back, a huge smile on his face.

He reaches out for Mutsuki, and Mutsuki stumbles back. "Stay away from me!"

"I don't want to hurt you, Mutsuki. You're useful, after all." Dr. Kanou cocks his head, and the words that pour from his mouth aren't his, but Furuta's, the trigger words from a session—no, they're his father's words—no, they're Dr. Kanou's— _Daddy's_ —he tries to clamp his hands over his ears, but they're dragged away and he can't help it, he's drowning, but there's smoke and not water, and he can feel pressure, lungs begging to breathe, but breathing means being alive, and being alive means remembering, and the room spins and spins until it flips.

_I'm not here._

* * *

"Everybody calm down!"

"Do we evacuate?"

"Who set this off? Are there others?"

Urie leans against the kitchen counter, listening to chaos erupt around them. Saiko shivers, but steals a few fries from an abandoned order. The chefs and dancers rush outside.

"I know who it was," whispers a voice, and Urie jumps out of his skin. _Tokage_. And Urie sees Mutsuki's face, wrecked with tears, and the jar of cat— _you did that, you made it worse, you exploited him and I hate you!_

"How'd you get out of prison?" demands Saiko, grabbing a rolling pin as if that'll do any good.

"Where's your girlfriend?" asks Tokage, crossing his arms. "The green-haired—"

"He has a name, and he's my boyfriend!" Urie's fist flies out to clock Tokage in the nose. _I fucking hate you!_

Tokage fumbles with something in his waistband. A click, and Urie freezes.

_A gun._

_He has a legit fucking gun._

"Now," says Tokage. "Tell me where your girlfriend and the others are, or I'll kill one of you, but who knows who?"

Urie can't see anything but Mutsuki's face, and hear Mutsuki's cries in his ears. _He's already suffered so much_. "How about you?"

Tokage snorts, and that's when Urie jumps at him, throwing his fists, his feet, biting into Tokage's shirt. He grabs the wrist with the gun and struggles. Tokage strains, trying to fire— _no_ —

A rolling pin slams down on Tokage's head. Again, and again. And then his eyes go white, and roll back into his skull. Saiko gasps, staring down at him.

The gun loosens, and Urie grasps it. It shakes in his hand. It's heavier than he expected.

"Urie, what are you doing?" Saiko whispers.

It's aimed at Tokage. Urie hesitates. Fury courses through him— _do you know what you've done? To Mutsuki? To me? To Rize and Kaneki and_ —

"Put it down, Urie," Saiko says, her voice trembling. "You're not this. Don't do this. You're my friend, Urie, you're not a killer, you're—you matter too much; I won't let you do this, Urie, _listen to me!"_

He looks at her huge eyes, filling with tears. Something loosens and falls inside him. He holds the gun out, and she takes it.

_I almost killed a man._

_It's easier to fall into than I thought._

" _Urie! Yonebayashi!"_

He whirls around to see— _Arima_. And Eto. And Noro, and Tatara, all brandishing guns of their own.

"It's about damn time," Saiko croaks.

"Tatara, get them out of here," Eto orders just as Kurona and Seidou rush down the stairs.

"Get them to safety!" shouts Arima.

_Kurona was upstairs?_

_So Mutsuki is—_

_Where are you, Tooru?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 0 Squad to the rescue. Feel free to let me know what you think!


	41. Precious Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Warning again for violence in this chapter.

_Do you hear the people sing?_

_Lost in the valley of the night_

_It is the music of a people_

_Who are climbing to the light_

_"Epilogue," Les Misérables_

* * *

"I'm terrified," Touka wheezes, rocking back and forth. Mado did allow them outside of the car, but the cars are arranged in a line, and they're not allowed to step out from behind them. Sirens scream—the fire department, and the police, cruisers squealing as more of them pull in. Lights splatter the pavement.

Four figures charge towards the door, making it inside. _Yoshimura? Yomo? Banjou? And—who is that last man?_ Hirako races towards Mado, shouting.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," whimpers Akira.

Shinohara flies towards the entrance. The police finally emerge, yelling for him to stop. Mado rushes at them, pulling out his credentials and yelling, presumably ordering them to let Shinohara inside. _How are you even here right now, Shinohara?_

Two figures stumble out of the building. _"Seidou!"_ screams Amon.

"Motherfucker!" gasps Tsukiyama, clinging to Karren. Kimi bursts into tears.

Kurona's barely keeping Seidou on his feet. Mado curses loud enough for them all to hear. He grabs Seidou from her, hauling him away from the building. "Call an ambulance!"

Seidou's entire shoulder seems crumpled. His arm dangles at a nauseating angle. Mado eases him to the ground, and Seidou retches, vomit falling onto the pavement. Mado tilts him forward so he won't choke. Kurona grabs his hair, holding it back.

_He's alive._

_In terrible shape._

Touka stares at the building. _The Sunlit Garden,_ advertises a ridiculous sign.

_Kaneki, Ayato, are you in worse shape?_

* * *

"Back exit!" Juuzou pants, arms trembling. Shirazu weighs more than he looks like he does.

The kids grunt, but they keep at it. Shirazu's face looks whiter than Juuzou's hair used to be, but his lips still move. _Good_. "Stay with me!" Juuzou orders.

The kitchen's towards the front of the building—he can hear police sirens— _Urie, Saiko, did you make it out okay? Are you still waiting for Hide?_

He can't think about that. If worse comes to worse, the police will get them out. Blood soaks through Ayato's sweatshirt, dripping onto the floor. "Hang on—Shirazu—almost—there—" He leans back against the exit, and it snaps open. Cool night air surges down Juuzou's back.

_We're out._

No one's in the back lot yet—just a few abandoned cars. They carry Shirazu about five meters from the building. "I'm getting the cops—put pressure on the wound!" he shouts.

The kid with lavender hair nods. Juuzou can't even tell if it's a boy or a girl. He likes this kid. Juuzou takes off, charging for the front of the building.

A car revs behind him. Juuzou turns around, and for a moment he just sees bright lights, and then he realizes.

_They're coming straight at me._

The car slams into him, and at first he doesn't feel pain, just the sensation of soaring through the air. And then he crashes down. His leg snaps. The air in his lungs bursts out. The pavement scalds his back.

He pushes himself up. Blood soaks through his leg. Something white glints. _Is that my bone?_ The rest of his calf and his foot hang useless.

" _Juuzou!"_ he hears a voice yell. The car's still coming at him, frantic to escape, but he can't move—he can't feel his leg—

Someone leaps in front of him, and then there's another crunch, and whoever it is crumples to the ground next to him. The face, stained in red now, blinks slowly at him.

"Shinohara?"

_No!_

A scream tears from Juuzou's throat.

* * *

"No!" Hinami shrieks as she watches Mado run towards the back of the building, bellowing into a phone that they need Banjou, they need " _paramedics right fucking now."_

"Who's hurt?" cries out Nishiki, clutching Kimi's hand for dear life. Ui charges after Mado. Kurona cries into her hands. An ambulance arrives, followed by five more. Paramedics run out, some rushing for Seidou.

_We're monsters—God, if you're there—help us—have mercy—_

"Is that Noro? And Tatara?" asks Karren.

 _It is_. Hinami recognizes them as they hustle Saiko out of the building.

"Who's hurt?" yells Touka.

"I don't know!" Saiko stops and gapes at Seidou. "Oh my God!"

Ui runs back, face gray. He points at the paramedics, gesturing for them to get back behind the building.

"What's happening?" pleads Hinami.

Ui hesitates. Hinami could deck him. "Juuzou and Shinohara have been hit by cars—Juuzou's conscious, but his leg's—"

"Shinohara's not conscious?" gasps Touka.

"And Shirazu's been stabbed, or shot—some sort of wound to his abdomen—and we've got three kids who look like they're trafficking victims—"

 _Stabbed, or shot…_ Hinami clutches her face. Amon holds Akira, both crying. _We're all crying. We're all so scared._

* * *

The fire siren still blares, and now Hide can hear police sirens too. Hope leaps inside of him.

Shouts echo on the third floor. Hide struggles, but the ropes tying him to this bed won't loosen. He's trapped. "Hey!" he tries to yell, but the gag muffles his cry.

The door slams open.

" _Hide!"_

_Kaneki._

_Oh God no—Furuta—_

His friend fills his vision, hair pale now. "Hold on," Kaneki promises him. "We're getting you out of here."

Ayato swears. His hands are wet as he fumbles to untie the ropes around Hide's ankles.

Kaneki rips the gag away, and a girl with purple hair—Rize—helps untie his wrists. _Huh_. "Knew he'd find you," Hide manages.

Rize scowls.

"Hide, I'm sorry—" Kaneki croaks. "I didn't know—I didn't think—I thought—"

"'S okay," Hide mumbles, head spinning from whatever they put in the water they gave him. It had a medicinal aftertaste to it, if he recalls correctly. Kaneki grabs him in an embrace, squeezing him as he pulls Hide to his feet. "Furuta—"

"We know," Kaneki assures him. "Did they hurt you?"

"No."

"We gotta run," Ayato urges them.

Rize nods. "Donato's still up here, I think."

A flashlight shines on them. Rize screams and Kaneki pushes himself in front of Hide.

"Thank God," gasps Arima.

_Arima?_

_And Eto?_

_Together? The fuck?_ Hide shakes his head. Big mistake. His stomach wobbles.

"You're okay," Arima says, relief sagging his face as he looks at Kaneki, at Rize, at all of them.

Kaneki shakes his head. "You—"

"We don't have time for this," Eto breaks in. "Kaneki, Ayato, get Rize and Hide out of here. Go straight down the stairs. We're looking for other people trapped in here."

"Eto."

Hide squints and sees Yoshimura appearing, gaping at his daughter.

"No time," Eto barks again, turning away from her father.

"Kaneki, get down the stairs now!" Arima orders.

Kaneki wraps an arm around Hide, and they clatter off towards the stairway. Hide's feet feel cold against the floor. The corners of his mouth feel raw. His head starts to clear.

A scream echoes as they pass the second floor.

* * *

When Tatara ordered them to follow him, Urie thought, _yeah fucking right._

Confused patrons still scrambled for the exits, and Urie took the opportunity to dive away and break for the staircase, slipping in the glitter littering the floor. _I'm not leaving without you, Tooru._

His legs carry him up the stairs. _Which floor are you on, Tooru?_

He rushes into what looks like an enormous, deserted ballroom on the second floor. Several chairs are overturned, and a pair of scant underpants lies on the ground. A corridor stretches in both directions, and several small rooms sit to the side. Blood, still wet, stains the floor. Urie's stomach flip-flops. " _Tooru!"_

Tooru rounds the corner, hobbling. Urie's heart spasms. Relief jabs into him like a thousand needles. _You're okay. You're okay. You're okay._ He breaks into a run for his boyfriend. "Tooru—"

Something glints in Tooru's hand.

_A knife._

Urie freezes. Tooru looks at him, confusion on his face. He cocks his head, studying Urie. "What are you doing here?"

_This is—you're dissociating right now, aren't you?_

"We came to—save Rize," Urie manages, watching the knife. Tooru frowns. The knife shines, spotless and clean. Urie blows out his breath. "With Kaneki."

Tooru holds up the knife, studying it. "I know. You're supposed to be downstairs. We have to find Furuta."

"I don't think we should," Urie says. "I—I mean—" _What do I do? Arima, why weren't you around so I could ask you what to do_? "You're hurt—you're limping. We should get out of here. It's dangerous."

"I can protect us," Tooru declares, eyes flashing. "No one's going to hurt you—"

 _Only you,_ Urie thinks. _Only you could._

 _And I'll take that risk_. He steps closer, reaching out for Tooru.

Tooru hesitates. "I want them to suffer—Dr. Kanou—Furuta—they need to—"

"They need to face what they've done," Urie agrees. His heart races. _Should I ask for the knife?_ He opens his mouth. No sound comes out.

Tooru whips about, as if expecting to see someone there, but there's no one. _Is there?_

 _There has to be,_ Urie realizes. But he can't see them. He steps forward.

 _I'm not afraid of you_. He reaches out again, and this time Tooru lets Urie's hands rest on his shoulders. "I love you, Tooru."

Tooru peers up at him, lips peeling back as he shakes his head.

"I do," Urie insists, Tooru warm against him, his hair smooth against Urie's cheek. "It's okay. I've got you." His voice catches. "You're okay."

Tooru presses his hand into Urie's. _The knife handle._

He's handing it over.

"Okay," Urie says, fingers closing over the handle. "I'll take this for you."

Tooru nods, pressing his face into Urie's neck. He inhales, and then goes limp.

"Tooru?" Urie catches him.

Tooru's shaking like a leaf. "Urie—I—I blacked out—what happened?" he screams, terror clawing through his voice, tears bleeding down his face.

"Nothing," Urie assures him, clutching his shoulders. "I've got you. Nothing happened. You had a knife, but I took it—it's clean. You didn't use it."

"Dr. Kanou ambushed me—" Tooru sucks in his breath. "He used the trigger words I was working on with Furuta! Did I hurt you?"

"You wouldn't have," Urie assures him. Shame fills Tooru's eyes, and he wants to wash it away. The smell of acrid smoke fills the air. "You're okay. You were a little intense, but you were still—you knew me. You still wanted to help your friends. Maybe not in the best way, but you were—still you."

"Really?" Tooru's eyes widen.

Urie nods.

A twisted laugh rings out.

Dr. Kanou emerges from one side of the corridor, and Furuta staggers out from the other, a maniacal grin cutting across his face.

 _We're fucked,_ Urie realizes. He grips the knife.

 _I can't do it._ He remembers Tokage and ice floods his veins _. Tooru, you were a lot further from committing murder tonight than I was_.

" _Don't touch my friends!"_ Kaneki's scream tears through the air.

* * *

Ayato runs after Kaneki and Rize, Hide behind him and still stumbling. Mutsuki and Urie clutch each other, kneeling on the floor as Kanou and Furuta close in, Furuta with a gun and a bloodied knife. "Leave them alone!"

"Rize!" Furuta gasps. Kanou charges at Kaneki, but Hide suddenly overtakes Ayato, flinging himself at Kanou instead.

A hand clenches around Ayato's shoulder, wrenching him to the left and against a wall. His head smacks concrete. His lungs constrict. His arm grows numb, and his chest—something digs into it.

A white-haired man he recognizes from the news about the jailbreak.

 _Donato_.

Ayato throws his arms up, but Donato's fingers already press into his throat. Ayato gags, thrusting his hips to _get him off, get him off—let me breathe!_

A gurgle emerges from his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, Ayato spots Kaneki and Rize chasing Furuta down a hallway. Hide swings wildly at Kanou, staggering, and Urie drags Mutsuki back from the fray.

_Help me!_

He can't speak. Only a mild whine emerges from his throat. Donato's smile carves into his face, grotesque. Black tinges the edge of Ayato's vision. He gropes, swinging, but his hands don't exist, his arms feel heavy, made of stone—

_Help me—_

Air floods his lungs, scraping and bruising his windpipe on the way down. Ayato gags, rolling over and spitting. He pounds a fist against the floor—he can feel his hands again. His lungs quake. He sputters.

Yomo appears from the stairwell, rushing towards them.

He cranes his neck to see who ripped Donato off and sees a face he hasn't seen in years, a face he never expected to see again.

His father slams Donato's head into the concrete. "Leave my son alone!"

_Dad?_

_You're_ _—here?_

Ayato shakes. He doesn't understand—what does this mean— _how_ can his dad be here? He wheezes, propping himself up on one elbow. The world tilts and spins.

"Ayato." Yoshimura crouches by his head. Hirako runs towards Mutsuki and Urie.

"Dad," Ayato gags, his earring cold against his cheek.

_Why now?_

His father turns around to stare at him, Donato unconscious at his feet, and his face breaks. Ayato looks down and sees Shirazu's blood caked on his hands, smeared over his jeans. He shakes his head. "Not—mine."

"Can you stand?" asks Yoshimura.

Ayato nods, but he flops over when he tries to get up. Yoshimura takes one arm, and Dad takes the other.

_My father is here. He's touching me._

It's too much for Ayato. His legs wobble, and his father has to grab him by the waist, hold him upright.

The doctor lands a good punch against Hide's cheek. Another figure emerges from one of the rooms, charging towards Kanou and Hide.

_Uta._

"Help me!" Kanou shouts as Yomo closes in.

Uta skids to a stop. Yomo freezes.

 _Uta's—working with them_?

"Uta?" ekes out Yomo.

The art teacher stares at his friend, Ayato's uncle, his fists clenched. Hide knees Kanou in the balls, but Kanou grabs Hide, pressing a gun into his neck.

"No!" screams Mutsuki.

_You were here the whole time._

_You snake!_

The betrayal on Yomo's face is too much to bear. His lips flutter open, and his eyes bug. He gulps.

Uta pulls out a gun, and now Ayato cries out.

But it's Kanou who doubles over, screaming as he clutches his calf. Hide kicks him away, ripping the gun from his grasp.

"I'll do it again," Uta warns, his hand calm as he aims the gun at Kanou.

Yomo shakes his head, Uta keeping the gun trained. He refuses to look at Yomo.

The police flood the second floor.

* * *

First Kaneki finds the knife, abandoned right at the corner in the hallway.

Then Rize finds the gun, a few meters ahead.

_Furuta dropped his weapons?_

A light shines from an open door at the end of the hall. Kaneki steps in, the knife in his hand. Someone's blood slicks it. _Whose?_

Fury courses through him, shaking him, threatening to burst out of his skin. _If you hurt anyone—_

"Welcome," says Furuta, sprawled in a chair at the head of a boardroom table.

"The fuck is this?" demands Rize, the gun vibrating in her hands.

"What does it look like? We're having a meeting." Furuta beams at them.

"You're insane," Kaneki snarls. "You—"

"I see you rescued Hide _and_ Rize. I'm impressed, Ken Kaneki," says Furuta as he leans forward. "I didn't think you could pull it off. It seems luck's on your side."

"We love each other," Kaneki says. "My friends and I, I mean."

"And I love her," Furuta says, watching Rize. "But she's never loved me."

"Why would I, you creep?"

"Because I rescued you as a child," says Furuta. "You grew up with the same traffickers I did. I helped you leave my father's trafficking ring. They usually only released the most gifted ones, and you weren't chosen, but I couldn't let them hurt you—I gave you a future and you trashed it."

Rize's eyes narrow.

"How old do you think I am, Kaneki?" Furuta inquires.

"I really don't care."

"I'm twenty-four," Furuta answers for him. "Prodigy. I have a master's degree already, and it's still not enough. No reputable school will take me, because I have Re Academy on my resume. And she—she took everything for granted, my help, my care, my—the world owes us, don't you think?"

Kaneki remembers Arima commenting about this once. "Maybe." _We can't wait around for it to deliver._

_Because the world is unfair. It's wrong._

"I haven't," says Furuta. "I've done what I can. But she—flirted with you to use you at the beginning of the semester—"

"You dropped the steel beams, didn't you?" Kaneki interrupts. Fury surges through him, and he sees his mother—he sees Yamori—he sees Furuta.

"I _never_ intended for you to be kidnapped," Furuta says, watching her. "I thought you'd be forced to get _help_ —I only partnered with Kanou to _find_ you, get you out of there as soon as I could."

" _Months_ is soon?" screeches Rize.

"If I'd gotten you before your contract was up, more people would be after you."

"Keep justifying yourself, you sick bastard," Kaneki snarls. Red and blue lights flash over the walls from the outside.

"I don't have to," Furuta says. "There is no justification, and yet I don't feel bad. It's funny, almost." He laughs. " _Love_. That's what Arima, Yoshimura, even fucking Yomo all prioritize. Except when I prioritized it, it went all wrong."

"What did you think?" asks Rize. "That once I woke up in the hospital after a beam almost killed me, I would love you? You piece of—"

"No," says Furuta. "I wished. I didn't think. I wanted—to be proud of you."

Shouts echo behind them. Kaneki tenses.

"I thought you might understand," Furuta says to Kaneki. "Of all the students I've had, you were the most relatable. You'd give anything to feel loved. To feel like you were _with_ people. That's what you said in your first session with me—you were so _earnest_." He smirks. "I was glad you didn't die, then."

_I am—_

_We are alike,_ Kaneki realizes.

He remembers what Touka told him that day in the hotel. _Part of you's good and part of you sucks._

"I'm so sorry," Kaneki tells him. "But it doesn't matter."

Furuta cackles. "So you still hate me."

"No," snaps Kaneki. _I wish you'd chosen differently._

_You are—a tragedy._

A click. Kaneki turns. Rize aims the gun at Furuta.

"Do it," Furuta taunts, and Kaneki realizes why he dropped the weapons. _He wanted to see which one of us would kill him._

_You don't want to get out of here alive._

"Drop the gun, Rize." Yomo's voice, from the doorway. Police crowd around.

"Why should I?" Rize laughs too now. "He doesn't even want his miserable life."

Kaneki's heart pounds. He puts the knife down on the table and takes a step back.

"I want the months you stole from _my_ life with your goddamned selfishness back!" Rize steps towards him.

Yomo steps into the room. "Rize—"

"Well?" she shrieks. "Can you give it back?"

Furuta just laughs, his fist pounding his own skull.

"Put it down!" barks a police officer.

"Rize, please," Yomo begs.

Rize shakes her head and turns her gaze to Kaneki. The gun stays trained on Furuta. "What should I do?"

 _You're asking me?_ Kaneki licks his lips.

_It's better to be the one hurt…_

_No, Mom, it's not,_ he thinks, looking at the bruises on Rize's arms and neck. _No one should hurt, and it's up to us to do the minuscule things we can_. "You know what I think you should do," he croaks. "But you're the one who has to make that choice."

Just like Touka waited for him to realize that beating himself, suffering, was never going to make him worth anything. His worth comes from something else.

_The fact that I'm here, and I have a chance in this world._

"I don't have any more time to waste talking to anyone, even the cops, about you," Rize informs Furuta, and the gun falls to the ground with a clank.


	42. Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

_For the wretched of the earth_

_There is a flame that never dies_

_Even the darkest night will end_

_And the sun will rise_

_"Epilogue," Les Misérables_

* * *

Seidou, Juuzou, Shirazu, and Shinohara are all on their way to the hospital by the time the door opens again. Amon lets out a shout when he sees Yomo escorting Mutsuki and Urie. _They're okay._ Saiko bursts into tears.

Kaneki and Hide emerge, and Touka finally breaks Mado's orders, flying across the pavement and throwing her arms around Kaneki. She plasters her lips against his, and Kaneki holds her so, so tightly.

And Rize, limping. Medics surround her. Banjou, smeared in blood from one of Amon's friends, lets out a cry when he sees her. Arima, _Eto—what the hell_ —and Yoshimura. A dozen kids— _dozens_ of kids he doesn't recognize.

And Ayato, held up by a man who almost resembles Kaneki at first, and at second glance—

Touka lets out a gasp.

The man hands Ayato over to paramedics and stands back, folding his hands together. His gaze fixes on Touka, and Amon realizes who he is.

"That's Arata Kirishima," whispers Tsukiyama.

Touka gapes at her father, shaking her head. She turns, and she runs. Kaneki chases after her. She falls onto the pavement beside Ui's car, bawling into her hands. Kaneki kneels beside her, and Arata lowers his head.

"Wow," whispers Nishiki.

Officers escort Kanou and Furuta out next, both in handcuffs. The smile is, finally, wiped off Furuta's lips. The air suddenly feels colder.

And then comes Tokage in handcuffs, and Uta jogs out, talking to the police that swarm him as well as Eto and Arima.

And lastly is the face of the man Amon's been dreading seeing, the man he's been waiting for.

_Donato Porpora._

Akira looks at Amon, and he breaks the rules next, pushing past the cars and heading over to the cops. Akira follows him, and then stops.

_I need to do this by myself._

_But you'll be watching._

Mado narrows his eyes, but he says nothing.

"You can't come over here, son," says the officer.

"I need to," says Amon. "He's my father." _For all intents and purposes._

The officer shakes his head. "Son, I—"

"I just want to talk to him," Amon says.

"Come to ask _why?"_ Donato calls from where an officer frisks him against the car. Blood trickles from a gash in his temples. "I always did wait for your letter." His gaze catches on the cross Amon still wears.

Amon wants to tear it off, throw it at him. But he doesn't.

Because he likes the cross, and he likes the reminder.

"I'm glad you're going back to jail," Amon says. The words stick in his throat. He's not sure he can say them. _I have to._ If he doesn't, they'll rot there, and they'll poison him.

Donato snorts.

"And I love you," Amon blurts out.

Donato freezes.

The lights still whir around them, sirens wailing. His heart pounds."I don't think I'll ever contact you again, but I want you to know that." _Because, as twisted as you were, you loved me too_.

 _You are my father even if not in blood_.

"Goodbye," says Amon. He turns around, and he sees Akira waiting for him.

* * *

Yomo watches as Arima lets out a gasp. A dark-haired boy of about fourteen, clad in torn shorts and a raggedy t-shirt, peers at Arima with recognition on his face. Tears stream down Arima's face as he rushes over, reaching for the kid.

"That's his brother," Eto comments, smirking. "Yusa Arima. Ui!"

Ui turns to her.

"Ma'am, we're trying to—" starts one of the officers.

"I'm aware you want to arrest me before you inevitably let me go when the trafficking charges are dropped, but some things are more important," Eto snaps. "You might want to call Hairu, Ui. This is her brother Shio Ihei." She points at a boy with curly light hair.

"You know Hairu?" gasps Shio.

"He's her boyfriend," Eto says, and Ui's face grows red.

Yomo looks at their companion, a kid with scraggly lilac hair. "What's your name?"

"Rikai Souzu," mutters the kid.

"Well," says Yomo. "Do you have any surprise siblings?"

"No."

"It's okay," Yomo tells him. "I think you'll find some at Re Academy." He thinks of Itori… of Uta.

Yomo gets to his feet, because Rikai refuses to make eye contact and Arima's already heading over, pulled by Yusa. Ui crouches next to Shio, who babbles into a Facetime chat with a screaming Hairu. Shio grasps Ui's arm as if he's found a new big brother, and Ui's face breaks down into a smile.

He finds Uta sitting in a cop car, head hanging, still not under arrest. _It's a matter of time_.

"Renji," Uta greets him.

"How long?" Yomo asks, the words still searing him as he speaks them, because it means they're true. _It's true. You were working with Furuta, with Kanou, with Donato._

Uta snorts. "Only since Donato broke out of jail."

It doesn't compute. _You are my friend. You helped me when I was so angry as a teenager._ "Why?"

Uta cocks his head, peering up into Yomo's eyes, and it strikes Yomo how much Uta's held back of himself. "Because," Uta says. "Donato is the only one who ever treated me like family." He drops his gaze and kicks his legs out. "It's lonely living life on the edges."

_It's lonely…_

_Because we let it be lonely. And because you, Uta, you were afraid it wouldn't be lonely._

"I wish I'd reached out more," Yomo says. "But that's not entirely true. You can't hide yourself and then say no one tried hard enough."

"I didn't say that."

The stars glitter above them, and one falls. A shooting star, a wish, a bleeding star. "But that's what you meant."

Uta inhales.

 _I want to know you_ , Yomo thinks, heart aching as he watches paramedics load Ayato into an ambulance, his niece sobbing with Kaneki holding her. "I'm sorry."

Uta blows out his breath. "Me too. I didn't want—them getting hurt—but—"

Yomo crouches down in front of him, heart pounding. _I might never get to do this again_.

Uta stops talking.

Yomo leans into the car and presses his lips against Uta's, breaking through the papery, chapped outside. Uta leans into him, his hand gripping the back of Yomo's neck.

When they break apart, Uta has tears in his eyes. "Thank you."

Yomo nods. "I'll still be there for you."

"I'm so sorry," Uta whispers. "I really am."

"I know you are," Yomo tells him, holding his hand until the officer comes over with handcuffs, asking Uta to stand up and turn around.

* * *

_Where am I?_

Chatter echoes nearby, irritating Juuzou. He cracks his eyes open to see bright daylight streaming through a window. He rests in a hospital bed, in a paper hospital gown.

"Juuzou?"

He squints, and it all rushes back. _Shinohara_ —the blood—but he's here.

Smiling down at Juuzou.

"You're okay," Juuzou rasps.

A bandage wraps around Shinohara's head, stained a bit, and a yellow bruise travels down the side of his face. The skin around Shinohara's eyes crinkles, and tears fill them. "Concussion," he says. "They released me a few hours ago."

Juuzou frowns, struggling to look at his leg.

"You had to have surgery," Shinohara informs him.

"I did?" He remembers coming to the hospital, nurses and doctors fussing over him while he railed at them for treating him, shouting that they should focus on helping Shinohara and Shirazu. "Oh."

"You had a compound fracture."

"The bone was sticking out," Juuzou says. _One of the nurses actually gagged._

"You'll be okay," Shinohara promises. "You just have to wait a few weeks to walk on your leg again."

Juuzou nods. "But you're okay—I thought—you were dead." His voice catches. He squeezes his eyes shut.

"Oh, Juuzou." Shinohara sighs, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Don't ever do that again," Juuzou says sharply.

"I don't regret it, and if I did die, I wouldn't regret it either," Shinohara says. "You're worth it. I look at you like my own child, Juuzou."

 _Why?_ Juuzou swallows. "I'm—sorry." _For running away. For worrying you._

"But you called us for help," Shinohara says. "Juuzou, I'm proud of you for that. If you hadn't, your friends—you helped save them, by making that call. That was a mature thing to do."

 _Mature?_ Juuzou swallows, running his fingers along the thin blanket over him. "They _are_ my friends."

Shinohara smiles.

"How is Shirazu?" Juuzou demands.

"He's okay," Shinohara says. "Everyone's okay. Seidou and Shirazu are still in the hospital—everyone else was released—and Rize, but she's going to be okay too. Shirazu had to have surgery as well, along with a blood transfusion, and he hasn't woken up yet, but the doctors say that's because of the anesthesia. He'll wake up in an hour or so."

"Are they reinstating you?" asks Juuzou. _I need you at Re._

_I don't want to imagine it without you._

_It's home for me._

"Well, Ui seems more than happy to let me take the job back," says Shinohara. "Arima's been cleared by the police, so he'll be taking over as dean again. Hirako's coming back, too, and Marude agreed to serve as acting principal. Fura's taking over the board, so there won't be any more Washuus."

 _Blech to Marude_. "Better than Furuta," Juuzou observes.

Shinohara snorts. "Yes. Yoshimura's going to come back, too. Furuta, Tokage, Kanou, Uta—they're all in prison. They can't hurt you anymore."

"Uta?" Juuzou's stunned. _Damn_. "What about Eto?"

"She's still fired," Shinohara says. "Her activities were still technically illegal, though I don't think she'll serve time. But her heart was—she wants the school to do better. I think with Arima and Marude in charge, it will."

"Who hit us with the car?"

"Matsuri," Shinohara states. "Quite possibly accidentally, in a panic to escape. It appears he wasn't directly involved in the trafficking ring and was present to make sure the scandal went away, but he's been arrested too. And a student complained about sexual harassment."

"When do I get to go home?" Juuzou asks.

Shinohara's eyebrows lift at his use of the word. "Later today," he promises.

"Good." Juuzou leans back.

_We actually did it._

* * *

Seidou holds his breath when Mado comes in, followed by Shinohara. A few broken ribs, a fractured scapula, and a broken collarbone. The doctors have been supplying him with enough pain medicine that he doesn't feel it.

He switches the TV off. "Do I have to go to jail?" he asks bluntly. "Kurona told you, right?"

"She did tell the police," Mado confirms.

"But no," Shinohara says. "You're not going to jail, Seidou."

He blinks, a rock vanishing from his stomach and hollowness taking its place. "But I—"

"You were manipulated by a man in a position of power over you," says Shinohara. "We see you as a victim, too."

 _We or you?_ Seidou's gaze darts to Mado. His face is inscrutable. "I shouldn't be an RA anymore."

"We're fresh out of RAs in Dorm Block 20," Shinohara admits.

"So do we have to move out?"

"The only one who's shifting rooms is Karren, and that's just down to the first floor," Shinohara says. "We'll talk about RA duties another time. I did say that we were a family at the beginning of the year, and that stays true."

Seidou's eyes burn.

_I don't deserve it._

But they're still offering another chance to him. He swallows.

"Akira and Amon would like to see you later," says Mado. "They're sleeping at the dorm now. You'll have to stay another night, according to the doctors."

Seidou nods. "Don't be too harsh on them."

Mado narrows his eyes.

"They were just trying to help me," Seidou whispers. "Because they're good people like that."

He remembers what Kurona told him, that he was a good man.

_I think maybe I can be._

"There is someone who wants to see you now," Shinohara adds.

Seidou nods, and he's not surprised when Kurona walks in. She's still dressed in the tight red top and black pants from last night. "You okay?"

"Are _you_ okay?" she asks, her eyebrows flying up to the point where her bangs conceal them. Shinohara and Mado leave.

"Do I look that bad?"

Kurona shrugs. "We have another chance."

"They told me." Seidou shakes his head and winces. _Better not do that_. "Thank you. For saving my life and all."

Kurona shrugs. She drags a black chair over next to his bed and plops down. "I wasn't going to let someone else die like that. Not someone I care about."

Seidou shifts his eyes to her. "Do you miss her?"

"Shiro? Every day." Kurona draws in her breath. "I still do talk to her. I feel like she listens, even if she can't respond."

"Maybe I should try that with my mother," Seidou muses. "Except I think I'd start with 'sorry.'"

"What's wrong with that?" she asks. "Especially when you know what she'd say back?"

 _I love you, Seidou._ That's what she'd say, and he knows it, and he's tired of running from it. "What would Shiro say, if you apologized to her?" Seidou rasps.

Kurona starts to smirk. "'Don't waste time apologizing, you noob.'"

Seidou laughs and groans. _Are the meds wearing off?_ "Ouch."

"Sorry," Kurona says quickly.

"Don't waste time apologizing, you noob." Now he has to bite back his laugh, and it hurts even more. _Dammit!_

She shakes her head at him. Seidou grits his teeth and reaches out with his uninjured arm, taking her hand. "Thank you."

She looks at him, her mouth forming a small 'o.'

 _You didn't just save my life in the Sunlit Garden,_ Seidou thinks. _There's another way to go, and you showed me._

Kurona nods, her cheeks flushing.

"Come here," Seidou says, hoping, praying, he's not wrong.

She leans over him, her hair tickling his neck, and he knows he wasn't and she wasn't.

She opens her mouth, covering his with hers. Her tongue runs along his teeth, and she washes away the sticky taste of medicine in his mouth. His breathing speeds up, quick and sharp, and he doesn't even care because the sensation of her lips kneading his own— _you showed me I had a future_.

_Maybe we do, too._

She pulls back. "Not gonna kill you right now. Breath deeper, Takizawa."

"When I get back to campus, can we get dinner?"

She laughs. "We better."

If only he had his phone. He can't wait to tell Amon and Akira. Or maybe it's better he doesn't have it, because he wants to see the look on their faces.

* * *

_I'm in my dorm room._

Kaneki pulls himself out of the narrow bed, lumpier than the one in the five-star hotel and far more comfortable than the one at the motel. He rubs his eyes. He remembers leaving the emergency room around dawn, right after Shachi appeared, bailed out by Mirumo Tsukiyama. How Shachi ran to Rize, how he held her in his arms and bawled.

Kaneki cried, too.

Shachi didn't look up from Rize long enough to tell Kaneki _thank you_ , and as he left, Kaneki realized it didn't even bother him.

"Kaneki," says Ui, greeting him in the lounge. "Banjou's going to escort you to go see Arima. He'd like to talk to you."

Kaneki nods.

"I'll tell Touka where you are," Ui confirms. Banjou greets him with a grin.

 _Is it really dusk already?_ He can't remember the last time he slept so deeply, dreamless and peaceful. The light clouds of day twist with the mauve and smoldering orange clouds of dusk, braiding the sky like an ornamental crown.

"We're really glad you're okay, kid," says Banjou, beaming down at him.

 _You really mean it_.

_People have always loved me… not perfectly, but still. Even though I haven't been perfect._

_They love me not because of anything I've done_. Somehow he knows Shachi would have still respected him even if he tried and failed to bring Rize back. And Touka would still love him, and Hide, and Tsukiyama and Hinami and hell, Ayato. _They just… love me._

A slight breeze ruffles his hair. He feels strangely naked. _It doesn't feel like I thought_.

And Kaneki finally understands why Valjean changed. He didn't have to earn his redemption because he owed the bishop. He worked for his redemption because he was shown love and kindness, and that freed him.

Kaneki and Banjou round the pathway to the two-floor staff apartments. Irimi and Koma wave at him from the top balcony, and sitting on the steps, he sees Eto and Yoshimura. They're not holding each other, and Eto's not weeping, but they're talking, and the look on Yoshimura's face—it's so full of hope, and Eto's eyes are wide and her jaw soft.

"Kaneki." Arima leans outside his apartment door on the second floor. Banjou announces he has to stay with them, since the paperwork to reinstate Arima hasn't yet gone through.

 _You knew what I'd do._ Kaneki swallows. "How's your brother?"

"He's recovering." Arima bites his lip as he shuts the door. The apartment's fairly spartan, a woven blue rug on the floor, two beige couches and a small, oval oak coffee table with what look like fresh-picked crocuses in a small pot in the center. "We rescued one hundred and three kids."

"Thanks to you," says Banjou, nodding at Kaneki.

"Not entirely," says Arima. "Eto and I were planning to rescue them, too. We didn't count on you being there, to be honest."

"So you didn't intend for me to run away and try to prove your innocence?" Kaneki splutters.

"No. I intended for you to try and prove _yours, from within campus_."

_Oh._

"But you didn't care about that, did you?" asks Arima. "You've always cared more about the lives of others than your own."

"That's not such a bad thing," Banjou snorts.

"It is when you neglect to believe _you_ have value," counters Arima, settling on one of the couches and motioning for Banjou and Kaneki to take the other. A painting of a leaf sits on the pale yellow wall.

"Did you help Eto escape prison?" asks Kaneki.

Arima shrugs. "No one will ever be able to prove it."

Kaneki actually laughs. Banjou groans.

"If Donato got out too, we knew we could track him," Arima adds. "You may also want to tell Juuzou, Kaneki, if he hasn't, that Big Madam was arrested in the raid he instigated when he called the police."

Kaneki nods.

"Kaneki, I grew up circulating through the same trafficking ring," says Arima. "So did Hairu, and Furuta, and Rize. And Ching-Li Hsaio. The Washuus ran it."

"Matsuri!"

"Yes, though he sold it off when his father died two years ago. It still came back to bite him, though, and he knew it, which is why he was there last night. I've been trying to find my brother, and Hairu's, for the past six years. After the events Ayato set off earlier in the semester, Eto came to me and told me it was the perfect opportunity." Arima grips his hands together. "I never intended for you to get caught up in all of it, although I should have foreseen it."

"What did you think?" Kaneki asks, cracking his knuckles. _Yamori gave me this habit._

 _It's harmless._ "When you heard I'd run away?"

"I was concerned, obviously, and I hoped Eto would help me find you. She refused, saying we'd only endanger you." Arima blows out his breath. His eyeglasses fog up. "I still should have."

"I forgive you," Kaneki says.

Arima frowns. "Kaneki—"

"I'm not just saying it because I think that's what you want to hear," says Kaneki. "I know—I've done that a lot in our sessions."

Arima groans.

"But I don't want to do that anymore. I want to—try. I want to live with Touka, and my friends—and I want to help people, sure, but—" _I need help too_. He remembers his friends, sweat shining on their faces, shivering from fear in that parking lot.

_My life matters._

"Good," says Arima. "Because I still plan to strongly recommend antidepressants for you, Kaneki."

He narrows his eyes.

"I won't force you to take them, but—"

 _Touka would probably shove them in my mouth if she could._ No, she wouldn't. At least not now. Touka at the beginning of the year definitely would have. "Okay."

* * *

"You look awesome," crows Yoriko, capping the lipstick. Touka grins as she watches.

"I'm slightly concerned," Karren mumbles. Movers added another bed above Hinami's, and now Karren's one of their roommates. "I'm not a girly girl."

"Tsukiyama will love it, though," croons Chie, snapping a photograph. She came to visit.

"Hey, you can't take pictures before I've even seen myself!"

"You look pretty," Hinami proclaims.

Touka shakes her head, sliding off her bunk and grabbing a small mirror. "Here."

Karren gapes at her face, drawn up with bright lipstick and soft eyeshadow. Yoriko insisted on dressing her in one of Akira's short black dresses, which is even shorter on Karren. Long silver earrings dangle from her ears.

"I do have to see Tsukiyama's reaction," Touka admits. Anything to distract herself.

"This is stupid. We can't even leave the dorm. It's for nothing," Karren complains.

"Why does everything have to be for something?" asks Yoriko.

Hinami leads the way out of the room, down to the lounge. Tsukiyama sprawls across the couch, laughing with Mutsuki and Urie. Chie snaps a picture.

"Oh hey!" Tsukiyama whirls around. His grin freezes when he sees Karren.

"Ta-da!" sings Yoriko.

Karren's face grows red. Mutsuki gives her a thumbs-up as he leans back against Urie.

Tsukiyama's face is frozen. He gets to his feet. "You look—you look—"

Karren winces.

" _Magnifique_ ," he proclaims. " _Trés belle_." Hinami giggles as Chie snaps photo after photo. "You've always been my dream girl. I just had to wake up and see it." He hesitates, hand on her chin. Karren's eyes shine. "I just don't want to smudge your lipstick—"

"Go for it," Touka urges, and Karren pulls Tsukiyama's face down, kissing him. Urie and Mutsuki clap. Chie snaps away.

"Touka," calls Shinohara's voice.

"You're back!" cries Hinami.

"I am." He smiles down at her. "Touka, someone's here who would like to see you, and Ayato. You _can_ refuse."

Touka swallows. Kaneki's still out with Arima.

Ayato said he saved him—pried Donato off when he strangled him. "I'll see him."

She waits for Ayato to come down the stairs, and then, after a peck from Hinami, they follow Shinohara into his apartment. Yomo sits on the armchair, and their father sits on the couch with the black blanket on his lap. He's so much smaller than she remembers.

Shinohara shuts the door. Touka swallows. "Why?" she bursts out. "Why—" _Daddy—_

He gets to his feet, bowing his head. "Touka—Ayato—"

"It's partially my fault," Yomo admits. Touka notices Shinohara disappearing into his bedroom.

"I should tell them, Yomo," Dad interrupts. He explains about what he got into after Mom died, about his arrest— _by Shinohara_?—and being told he would never get custody of his kids back and the judge ordering him to retreat from their lives. "Shinohara called and got the order lifted earlier today."

"Bullshit!" Touka bursts out, her fists nodded. "We _needed_ you! We— _wanted_ you—even if you couldn't fully be there—even if you were in jail—it's still better than no you at all!" _I wanted you here for—so much._ Her chest heaves.

"I am so sorry," Dad says, his voice breaking. "I—never stopped loving you, but I haven't shown you that, so if you don't believe—"

"I believe it," croaks Ayato.

 _Huh?_ Touka turns to gape at her brother. _My God. You really have grown up._

He looks straight at their father, shoulders back and face open, vulnerable. "You saved my life last night—and I have my own list of things I'm not proud of."

Touka remembers Mado, and the stairs. She lowers her head. "Me, too."

Ayato crosses the room in two steps and reaches out. Dad grabs him and holds him against his chest. Ayato sobs.

Tears blur Touka's vision. Yomo watches her, but with compassion. _Either choice I make here is okay_.

Touka steps forward, a small step, and Dad shuffles towards her with Ayato still clinging to him. She falls into his arms.

_We'll never make up the time we lost._

_We can make the most of what we have._

"Dad," Touka says against his shoulder. "You should meet my boyfriend."

Dad chuckles as she pulls back. He wipes tears off his face. "I've heard a lot about Ken Kaneki."

Touka narrows her eyes at Yomo.

"Good things," Dad clarifies.

"And you should meet Hinami," Ayato adds, clutching their father's hand like he's a child again, except they're actually at eye-level with each other. "She's really special."

"I can get them," Yomo offers. "If Kaneki's back. If not, I think he's been talking to Arima and Banjou long enough."

Touka nods. "Dad, we're in a play."

"We both have solo roles," Ayato chimes in. "You'll come see it, won't you?"

 _We're still kids in some ways,_ Touka realizes. _I'm not sure that's a bad thing._

"Of course," says Dad.

"If it's still on," Touka says, wondering. They still have several months left—Itori won't cancel, will she?

The door opens, and Yomo escorts Hinami, wearing her yellow dress and folding her hands in front of her, and Kaneki, who breaks into a huge smile when he sees Touka.

"Dad," says Ayato. "This is Hinami Fueguchi, my girlfriend."

"Whom you may or may not deserve," Touka taunts.

Hinami's jaw drops. Ayato shrugs, fiddling with his earring.

"Pleased to meet you," Dad says, holding out his hand.

Hinami beams as she takes it. "Pleased to meet _you_." She tosses Ayato a grin. "He's pretty great. Most of the time."

"And this is Ken Kaneki," Touka says, taking his hand.

Kaneki holds out his free one. "I'm sorry for running away with your daughter."

 _Ken!_ Touka has to tense her leg to keep from stomping on his foot. "I ran away _after_ you."

Kaneki shrugs, face red. "I do love her."

_Oh my God, Ken!_

"Well," says Dad, nodding. "I'm glad to hear it, Kaneki."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Yusa and Shio are more distantly related to Arima and Hairu in the manga, but they're more directly related in this story for the sake of simplicity—hope you don't mind!
> 
> One more chapter :)


	43. Tomorrow Comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This chapter might be more of an epilogue.

_Will you join in our crusade?_

_Who will be strong and stand with me?_

_Somewhere beyond the barricade_

_Is there a world you long to see?_

_Do you hear the people sing?_

_Say, do you hear the distant drums?_

_It is the future that they bring_

_When tomorrow comes_

_"Epilogue," Les Misérables_

* * *

"I think I'm more nervous about tonight than I was when we raided the Sunlit Garden," Seidou comments, turning his phone over and over on his lap.

He expects Kurona to roll her eyes. Instead, she offers him a tight smile. "Me too."

 _Really?_ They both lounge in Seidou's dorm room, curtains wide open and sunlight streaming through. She's not allowed on this floor, but the moment she texted to ask how he was doing and he responded with an ellipsis, he knew she would come.

"Is your sister coming?" she asks.

Seidou sighs. "Probably not."

Kurona leans her head against his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around her. His lips find hers, and then she's lying flat on her back, pulling him over her. Seidou's fingers rover under her shirt.

"You can take it off," she offers.

His eyes widen. She props herself up on her elbows and pulls it off. There's a scar on her abdomen that looks almost like a face. Seidou reaches his hand out, covering it with his palm, and then he lowers his lips to it.

"Did you get condoms from Tsukiyama?" asks Kurona.

Seidou flushes.  _You really want to?_ "He didn't exactly ask if I wanted them. They just sort of... appeared on my desk."

She kisses him again.  _Okay._ He fumbles into the drawer where he hid them. "I think I'm more nervous about this than even the play," he jokes.

Kurona frowns. "Are you okay?"

"Well," says Seidou, heart thumping. "Yes. I still want to."

Kurona smiles. Seidou pulls the curtains tight to block out the sun and any accidental viewers. He climbs back onto the bed, his mouth sinking into hers. Their clothes come off. He's exposed, and she reaches for him. Kurona's neck arches up. Seidou's fingers tighten on her forearms.  _Breathe, Seidou._  Of course, they're both biting their lips to keep anyone else from overhearing. Her hair falls over her shoulders, down her chest. His muscles clench. His head thrusts back, and he's carried away, past what he's done and beyond the future he's trying to piece back together. His gaze focuses on Kurona, because she's here, and he remembers that someone's here for him, and he feels known. Hope burgeons, yellow and white and bright.

He collapses next to her. Seidou wraps his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. Their breathing slows. Her fingers rest on his cheek and his run through her hair. Drowsiness settles on both of them, and Seidou's eyes drift shut.

His phone rings. Kurona snorts. Seidou groans, flipping over to see who it is.

 _Akira_.

"What?" he snaps.

"Please return my girl to my floor, Takizawa," Akira says, a smile in her tone. "Yes, I know she's with you. We have a play to get ready for, and I'm supposed to make sure everyone's ready to head over by four."

"It's two-thirty."

"Seidou, we have two shower stalls and eight girls here."

"Fair enough," Kurona mumbles, prying herself up.

Seidou hangs up on Akira. He peers at Kurona.

She rolls her eyes. "We can celebrate after we pull this off."

 _Good point._  Anxiety silences his voice.

"Still nervous?" Kurona asks as she shimmies into her jeans. She fastens her bra on and faces him.

He nods. No point in lying. She can tell.

"Me too," she says as she leans over, lips wet as they break his open.

And then she's gone, and Seidou can hear Juuzou laughing, so clearly he saw her.  _Oh well._

 _You're going to be fantastic as a factory girl,_  he texts her.  _And a beggar. And a mourning woman._

 _And a whore?_  she responds with a winking emoji.

_Nah, but you will get my blood pumping during that scene._

_All I've ever wanted._  He can hear the dryness in her tone even though the message and grins to himself.

Seidou showers and studies his reflection. He plans to dye his hair back to its natural brown before graduation, but he hasn't had time yet.

And it's a reminder he doesn't mind. Although it might be time. He touches the white strands.

They all gather at the drama department, where Itori's running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Seidou's handed his poor man costume and finds himself shuffled off to the makeup chair. Kaneki grins at him as Hairu outlines his eyes.

"Ready, Jean Valjean?" Seidou asks.

"Ready."

Akira waltzes by, dressed in her factory uniform, her lips painted red and her eyes decorated to look stunning. Amon rushes over, his uniform pressed and neat. Mutsuki covers his mouth, looking as if he's trying not to hurl.

"Hey, Mutsuki," calls Kaneki, giving him a thumbs-up. "Break a leg. Not literally."

"You're not going to believe this!" squeals Saiko as she ducks backstage, so late Itori looks ready to smack her in the face with a script. "There are  _so many_  people!"

"Really?" demands Kurona, her hair neatly braided. She smooths her apron.

"Yep." Saiko nods, grabbing her costume. "I guess Arima's decision to open it up to the public worked out in the end despite the shorter notice."

"The press coverage probably helped," observes Karren, her hair graying thanks to baby powder. She folds a heavy cross between her hands.

"Everyone wants to come and see just what's up with these crazy kids," proclaims Tsukiyama, his makeup as over-the-top as his personality.

"Ten minutes!" Itori barks.

"Yes ma'am!" Nishiki salutes her. Kimi adjusts her top, lower-cut than the school's dress code allows. Ayato mumbles his lines to himself in a corner, Hinami with her hand on his shoulder.

Seidou looks at Kaneki as Itori hustles him onto the stage with Nakarai, Mikage, and Tamaki.  _Here we go._

The opening notes of the music play as the curtain draws back. Seidou grimaces as he watches them tug on the ropes as part of the chain gang, as they sing about their despair, about God not caring, about wanting to die, about being forgotten.

 _It's not the case for us,_  Seidou thinks.  _We remember each other, if nothing else._

* * *

Karren's legs won't work. Vomit surges up her throat. Itori waves her hand, gesturing for Karren to move onto the stage.

 _Help_.

Shuu gives her a nod, and her chest relaxes. She marches out and the words fling from her tongue without even thinking.  _Huh._   _I remember them. It's like they're a part of me._

Within minutes Aura and Higemaru throw Kaneki down at her feet. Aura pretends to kick Kaneki.  _Was that part of Itori's direction?_  Karren can't recall. She grabs the candlesticks, singing as she crouches before him and lifts his face, ordering the constables to let him go.

" _Remember this my brother, see in this some higher plan,"_  she croons, her mind filled with images of Shuu and Mirumo accepting her, Kimi and Nishiki forgiving her, Kaneki becoming her friend.  _What will I use the kindness they showed me to become?_

She's still figuring it out.

When Karren slips backstage, Shuu's waiting with his hand held up for a high-five. Chie gives her a thumbs-up as, back on the stage, Kaneki laments what kind of man he's become. Akira fiddles with her wig.

"Akira!" hisses Itori. "Don't forget your letter!" She thrusts the prop into Akira's hand.

"You've got this," Karren tells her, and Akira smiles.

* * *

"At the end of the day you get nothing for nothing," Aura sings as he slaps Akira on her back, fixing her with a lecherous grin. Akira pretends to ignore him. Her mouth feels dry.  _My voice better not crack._

"What have we here, little innocent sister?" Kurona chirps, sauntering over to Akira and snatching the slip of paper from her hand.

"No!" Akira yelps, fluttering after her as Kurona dances away.

Her heart twinges when Aura fires her and throws her out.  _What do you think of this, Dad?_ She wanders over the suddenly empty stage, the sheet of fabric behind her dotted with lights to look like stars.  _This is it_.

 _Fantine is the life so many of my friends' parents' lived, isn't she? Do you still condemn her?_  Akira opens her mouth. "I dreamed a dream in time gone by…" It's too late for generations of Re Academy alumni, too late for Touka and Ayato's mother, too late for so many others, but not too late for them.  _And you can help, Dad_.

Whether he will or not, Akira still doesn't know, all these months since they ran away. Her voice swells even as tears prick her eyes. "And still I dream he'll come to me…" When she finishes the song, gasping in air, she remembers their last rehearsal yesterday, when she caught Amon briefly blinking back tears when she finished this song.

Hide, Higemaru, and Shirazu storm out, way over the top and enjoying singing their slightly dirty lyrics to "Lovely Ladies." Saiko grins as she slinks over to Akira, offering to cut her hair. The rest of the girls lift their skirts, kicking their legs as they sing. Akira grasps Hide's hand, pulling him off to the side as the "Captain" Fantine's about to sleep with.

It's not long before Seidou's on stage, rubbing his hands down her front. Akira slaps him on his cheek. He vows revenge and she falls to the ground, sobbing and begging Amon for the mercy Javert won't show her.

Kaneki intervenes, lifting Akira to carry her off stage and to her deathbed.  _I hope you heard more than just my voice, Dad._

* * *

 _Ah yes._ Chie's song comes to an end, and Tsukiyama runs out onto the stage. He clutches the bottles—real beer bottles now, he noticed, though disappointingly filled just with water. He slips his hands in Takeomi's pocket, pulling out a coin purse and winking at the audience. When he sings, he feels alive.

Kimi launches into her lines, draping herself over Hanbee and shaking her head as she blasphemes Tsukiyama. Or, _er,_  his character. But she seems to get the emotions right at last, with her voice shrill and downright funny.

"Everybody raise a glass!" Tsukiyama cheers, leaping on a table and thrusting his mug towards the ceiling.

"Raise it up the master's ass!" Kimi shouts, grinning at him.

 _We're friends now, aren't we?_ Tsukiyama winks at her as Kaneki appears back on stage with Chie.

* * *

Juuzou adjusts the stained shirt he wears. A hand lands on his shoulder, and he gasps.

"Good luck," Hanbee whispers in his ear.

_Oh. It's you._

"You're going to be great," Hanbee assures him.

Juuzou winks. "You've been pretty great yourself."

Hanbee flushes. "Well, I'm just saying. You're someone we look up to. Or many of us do. We can't wait to watch you kill it."

 _Oh_. Juuzou swallows. "Thanks." He has half a mind to ask Hanbee to say it louder, just so Seidou can hear, but they've been cool since coming back from their escapade. Juuzou shifts, putting weight on both his legs, relieved.  _I can still walk normally. Suck it, Matsuri._ He flounces onto the stage, ready to sing about how the poor should all follow him.

* * *

Amon breaks into "Stars," staring at the same fabric backdrop Akira sobbed in front of during her solo. "I never shall yield," he warbles, singing about following the path of the righteous and how anyone who falls short should be cast out of heaven.

 _I'd still like to follow that path._  He feels the cross he wears against his chest, covered by Javert's uniform.

 _I just don't think a righteous life looks anything like what I thought it looked like_. It's less about holding your place, knowing your course and your aim than Mado told him.

Even if he doesn't know how to be a good person, he does love Akira, and he loves his friends, and they are his stars, coaxing him forward.

_This kind of life is exhausting, Javert._

_And it's not for me._

* * *

Ayato watches as Urie teases Mutsuki about Marius's love for Cosette. He grasps the French flag, thrusting it out behind his shoulders as he leaps on a chair, jumps down and grasps his friends' shoulders, rallying them to his revolutionary cause that's going to get them all killed.

"Have you asked of yourself what's the price you must pay?" Ayato sings. His eyes skitter out to the audience, mostly shrouded in darkness. He swallows.  _There are a lot of people._  He can tell.

He remembers what Itori said when she first wanted to bring the community in.  _"You have just as much a right as any other high school students to have people enjoy your accomplishments with you."_

"Who cares about your lonely soul? We strive towards a larger goal," Ayato adds, towering over Mutsuki, who swings his legs as he perches on a table in front of Urie, lovesick and killing it.

_Lonely souls are your larger goal, aren't they, Arima?_

Ayato mentally apologizes for every time he's dissed the dean over the past year. Which has been a lot.  _Whatever_.

Of course, if he fucks up later on in the performance, he reserves the right to change his mind.

* * *

Hinami's fingertips caress Mutsuki. The gate presses into her cheek. She's not sure she can hit the right notes, but she does. Mutsuki's face breaks into a smile, before he wipes it away. Touka steps up to the center as Tsukiyama and his crew of bandits invade from the left.

Touka screams to warn them, and Tsukiyama slaps her, sending her to the floor of the stage.  _God, he's doing great._

_We all are._

"One Day More" is Hinami's favorite song. Kaneki rests his hands on her shoulder as he steers her to the left side of the stage, opening with the lyrics. And then Mutsuki's voice appears from the right, and Hinami joins in, her voice melding with his as they sing the same words.

Touka's lament starts in-between Hinami and Mutsuki's lovesick lines. Ayato rallies his friends to his revolution, and Amon marches through center stage, vowing to watch all the schoolboys wet themselves with blood. Tsukiyama and Kimi dart across the stage, robbing Urie and Hsiao and gloating about it.

"My place is here, I fight with you!" Mutsuki vows, leaping up next to Ayato and clutching the flag.

And everyone launches into their own lines, all at the same time, the melodies blending together. Chills shoot down Hinami's arms. Her hair stands on the back of her neck.

"Tomorrow we'll discover what our God in heaven has in store!" they all sing in unison, their disparate voices coming together. "One more dawn, one more day, one day more!"

The curtains snap shut.

 _Halfway done,_  Hinami thinks as she catches her breath. Ayato pumps his fist.

* * *

Itori tries to give them a pep talk before the second act opens, but Touka's not paying attention. She knows her father's in the audience.

She wanders onto the stage with the mournful notes of "On My Own." She closes her eyes, remembering all the years she's spent fighting on her own, with Mom dead, Dad gone, Ayato trying and trying to leave. She remembers all the dreams she used to have, the way she drifted to sleep imagining the camping trips in their living room, Dad's voice reading her stories. Her heart breaks for her character, and Éponine's not even real.

 _Dad's here. Yomo, Ayato, Yoshimura—and Kaneki_. "I love him, I love him, I love him," she sings.  _And not on my own_. It's a special feeling, to be secure, and she's still adjusting to it, still having to remind herself—or have Kaneki remind her—that she doesn't need to push people away. "But only on my own."

She slips a cap over her hair, signaling Éponine's decision. In the novel, she hopes to die with Marius, because she knows she'll never be able to live with him.

_The world is cruel, and lonely._

_But we get to live in it._ And Touka's tired of fighting.

* * *

" _Liar!"_  Juuzou breaks in, interrupting Javert's deception. "Good evening dear Inspector, lovely evening m'dear." He prances over the barricade, singing about how much little people can do. Amon flinches as Urie leaps at him, helping capture him.

And then there's a short skirmish, complete with fake musket noises and flashes.

Mutsuki coughs on the powder in the air. Touka falls in front of him.

Mutsuki scrambles over the jumble of furniture comprising the barricade, gasping as he notices Éponine's wound and tries to reassure his friend he'll be okay before reality tears that hope apart. "Oh God, it's everywhere!"

"You're here, that's all I need to know," Touka sings, her voice trembling as she reaches one arm up for Mutsuki. "And rain will make the flowers grow."

"But you will live," Mutsuki protests, desperation leaking into his voice. Upon Éponine's request, he takes Touka in his arms.

It's strange. Mutsuki remembers loathing Touka at the beginning of the year, back when he viewed her as competition for Kaneki's heart.  _And now you're a good friend._ His voice wobbles.  _I couldn't handle it if anything were to happen to any of you. I'm so glad we all came out of that okay._

 _Yes, you could handle it,_ a voice that sounds like Arima's says.  _But it's better you don't have to._

_Because they'd still love me, even if they died._

Touka's eyes flutter close. Mutsuki remembers what Arima told him, that Tokage and Furuta were always planning on manipulating Mutsuki and his mind issues, ready to to exploit him if they needed to. " _But your friends kept getting in the way."_

 _My friends…_ Mutsuki gulps. _I love you all._

And it's healing him, not destroying him.

* * *

Urie listens as Kaneki sets Amon free, Javert refusing to understand.

_You can't make people understand._

_Or see you differently._  For many people and universities and companies, a graduation from Re Academy will be a blot on Urie's resume for his life.

 _I don't have to let that define me_. Urie settles down next to his friends, singing "Drink With Me," as the reality sinks in that they're all going to die.

 _I have all of you_. He has Tooru, whom Urie loves with everything in his being, and Shirazu and Saiko, and Kaneki, and Touka— _Shinohara was right._

_We did become a stupid family. Shit._

And they know who he is. Tooru's seen every inch of his body and explored so much of his mind. He knows about Urie's father.

_It doesn't matter what Takeomi's doing._

They accept him as he is _. I'm okay._

* * *

Kaneki wanders the barricade, heart in his throat.  _I haven't messed up so far._ He spots Mutsuki curled up and crouches down next to his friend's head. "God on high, hear my prayer," he begins "Bring Him Home." "He is young—he's afraid—"

 _We're all young and afraid._ Graduation next month terrifies Kaneki.  _But I'm not alone._ He sings about how, if God had granted him a son, he might be like Marius, and remembers what Arima told him.

_Now I understand._

"If I die, let me die, let him live; bring him home, bring him home," Kaneki sings. His voice trembles. "Bring him home!" Valjean does want to live. He's not eager to die to be loved. He's willing to die, but only for Marius's life. He doesn't want to throw his life away, but he might have to.

 _I've been really selfish_.

 _I love you all,_  he thinks as a firefight breaks out and he drags Mutsuki off to the sewers, where Tsukiyama awaits.  _Thank you for teaching me how to live._

* * *

Yomo wipes at his eyes in the audience, noticing Shinohara doing likewise as Juuzou's character falls to the ground, dead. Mutsuki falls, and Yomo hopes that this story doesn't kill Marius too.

He watched Arata cry during Touka's solo and her character's death, though it wasn't as loud as Mado bawled when Akira's character turned to prostitution and died begging Kaneki to save her daughter.

Ayato's character—Enjolras—falls, and Yomo doubles over. He's so grateful no one died in the Sunlit Garden. Uta's plead guilty in exchange for his testimony against the rest of the crew, and a reduced sentence. Yomo's happy about that, more for Uta's sake than anyone else.

" _Why are you visiting?" Uta griped last week. "After what I did to your family—"_

" _Because," Yomo said. "I meant it. I still care about you."_

_We'll never have the future we could have had. But I still care._

And caring has no real-world limits.

* * *

Nishiki watches from backstage as Amon paces back and forth on the fake bridge, contemplating how damned Valjean's mercy has made him. "I am the law, and the law is not mocked!" he rages. "I'll spit his pity right back in his face!"

 _Subtle, Itori,_  Nishiki thinks.

Amon leaps to Javert's death, pushed by his own strict black-and-white understanding of the law. Mutsuki takes the stage, lamenting his friends' deaths, and Kimi dabs at her eyes.

"You okay?" Nishiki hisses.

Kimi nods.

_It's okay to mourn._

_What we have now doesn't replace what we lost._ He thinks of his sister, Kimi probably of her family.  _We have each other, but we still lost those people we love._

_But I don't hate you for dying anymore, sis._

_I'm sorry that happened to you._

_I think maybe you'd be pretty proud of me, too._

* * *

_It's almost over._ Kaneki sits in an old chair, wearing dressing gown as Valjean prepares to die. "Now I can die in peace," he rasps as he reaches for Hinami and Mutsuki.

"It's too soon to say goodbye," Hinami sings.

"Yes, Cosette, forbid me now to die—I'll obey—I will try—" Of course, Valjean does try. But to love means to live, and loving means death isn't the end of the story.  _That's what I've wanted all along, isn't it?_  For his life to have some meaning in death, because it felt so empty. Some days, it still does, but his friends and the antidepressants seem to be helping.

 _I want to live. I want to live and love more, because living this kind of life—it's harder, but it has way more of an impact than dying would_. Kaneki imagines if Valjean had thrown himself at Javert when he arrested Fantine, had died. Fantine would have remembered him, and still died herself, and Cosette...

But because Valjean wanted to live, he saved Cosette, and Marius.

 _I don't know how to live a life like that_. But he has friends, and they're willing to help him, to show him, to figure it out together.

"Come with me, where chains will never bind you," Akira croons, approaching with her palms outstretched, her wig long again, clad in white and with her makeup healthy and glowing.

"Take my hand, and lead me to salvation," Touka joins in, appearing to help Akira guide Kaneki to heaven.

"Do you hear the people sing?" whisper the voices of all the other characters who died—Ayato, Urie, Shirazu, Hsiao, Juuzou, and more. They march onto the stage, voices swelling as they sing about making the world you long to see.

"Will you join in our crusade?"

_I will._

"It is the future that they bring when tomorrow comes, ah, ah, ah,  _tomorrow comes!"_

* * *

Applause echoes through the theater as Hide bows, clasping his castmate's hands. They slip to the side and Akira rushes on, hand-in-hand with Amon.

"Standing ovation," comments Chie, her eyes wide.

"Wow." Hide peers into the audience, where the lights are finally on and illuminate all the faces. So many people, and so few are ones he knows. Hide breaks into a grin when he sees Naki and Miza there, Naki with tears streaming down his face.  _Wait—are Eto and Arima holding hands?_

Rize laughs and cheers as Mutsuki and Hinami bow and scamper to the side, and Kaneki appears, bowing all by himself. Shachi has his arm around his daughter. Next to her, Rikai, Yusa, and Shio all chatter among themselves, applauding too. Hairu has one hand on Shio's head, and the other around Ui's waist. Hirako whistles.

Mado sits near the front, clapping and—beaming.  _My God, he actually looks alive._  Possibly for the first time since Hide's met the man. Arima extracts himself from Eto and presents Itori with flowers to thank her for directing the performance, and she thanks the crowd for coming.

As everyone rushes backstage, stripping from their costumes, Hide watches as Mirumo Tsukiyama gives both his son and Karren with bouquets of roses. Mado appears, grabbing Akira and swinging her around. Hide half-expects the man's back to crack in half, but Akira laughs like a little girl, and Amon grins.

Shirazu lets out a cry and rushes towards a thin, frail-looking girl escorted by Banjou. "Haru!"

Mutsuki, Urie, and Saiko all rush over to greet the girl Hide assumes is Shirazu's sister. Kurona slings her arm around Seidou, and Mado beckons for the two of them to join him, Amon, and Akira.

Nishiki and Kimi flop down on the floor, laughing together as they gulp water. Shinohara bubbles with praise for Juuzou and Hanbee, Nakarai, and that whole crowd. Yomo and Arata make a beeline for Ayato, Hinami, Touka, and Kaneki.

The grin on Kaneki's face—it's so full of life, and hope, and the future. Hide catches Chie's eye and gestures.  _Get a picture!_

She grins and obliges.

"Hey," says a voice behind him.

He turns around to see Yoriko there, Takeomi nearby chatting with his dad.

"Hey," Hide says to her.

"Where are your parents?"

Hide shrugs. "Couldn't make it."

Yoriko cocks her head, as if she's just realizing that Hide had his reasons for wanting to come to school at Re Academy in addition to wanting to protect Kaneki. "Are you sad?"

"No," answers Hide, watching as Kaneki poses next to Touka, his hair still stained gray with baby powder. Ayato and Hinami stand next to them for Arata to take a picture, even though Chie's sweeping around capturing all the heartwarming scenes. Aura's aunt appears, lifting him off his feet in a hug. Hsiao rushes over to join Saiko and Shirazu with his sister.

Yoriko nods.

"I like this," Hide says, gesturing out. "Everyone's—all this love. It's enough to make you sick, but not sad."

Seeing everyone from outside in the auditorium—it was like they were finally remembered.

_We are the future._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy? Perhaps. I make no apologies, though. :P
> 
> Many thanks to everyone who read this story, left comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc. I really am grateful to you all; I had such fun writing this story and I hope you've enjoyed it as well. Thank you for indulging me.
> 
> And as one last note, I've had a few people ask me about Ui and Hairu in this fic. I outlined this story in February and wrote it in March, and while I always found Ui's character in TG interesting, his role was smaller, and hence I didn't explore his character in this story as much as I wish I did (especially with the subsequent developments in the manga!). Soooo to rectify this I wrote a series of four one-shots set in this universe that chronicle all the characters and ships we've been following in this story after graduation, along with Ui and Hairu's relationship. (The connecting theme of all four one-shots may be something along the lines of "how many times can the kids unwittingly mess up important events in Ui and Hairu's relationship?" #poorui.) I'll post them once or twice a week starting tomorrow (they're lengthy for one-shots, about the length of 3 or 4 chapters of this story); feel free to check them out, if you would like!


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